


A Second Look

by Lioness25



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Bullying, F/M, First Time, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Loss, Physical Disability, Romance, Secret Relationship, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:11:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2396255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lioness25/pseuds/Lioness25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff ''Joker'' Moreau, never chose to be born with his OI, never chose his nickname, or expected the irony of living up to it...in his own caustic way...<br/>But most of all, he never expected to get a second look, especially from a woman like her. </p><p> </p><p>Set in the first game; I've adhered to the timeline and events therein, VERY loosely. Focus is on Joker and Shepard, and their love and angst relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

 

 

 

 Prologue:

 

I’m not the type of guy who ever really gets a second look.

I mean, yeah, I usually get the first one…well…I _sometimes_ get it. I’ve been called handsome, and yeah, I’ve been told, had whispered in my ear, naughty desires and intentions.

But, that’s where it ends.

I should honestly be used to it by now. I’ve been ‘dumped’ on the second look since like sixth grade.

Because, it’s the second look that makes all the sweet nothings, teasing offers, and compliments end.

Being crippled isn’t sexy. It isn’t what women like, it isn’t what anyone likes.

Sometimes they’re interested for a while; they give it a try! Like it’s a new haircut or something, that with a little time they’re sure they can get used to. Well, they never can, and never do.

Sometimes they pretend to like me out of pity, or some twisted mommy complex. Like, they feel as though they want to look after me or something, like I _need_ someone to love me, and so they’re just _so_ kind and selfless, that they’ll take in on themselves to be this martyr, and give the cripple the love he’ll probably never have, except what they take it upon themselves to give.

It think I hate these ones the most. But, it’s hard to choose, which hurts more and which hurts less, when it comes to rejection.

The absolute worst are the ones who have the mommy-martyr complex, and drag it out for a while, but then, realize that they really do want to be a mommy one day, of a _baby_ , not a cripple, and then they suddenly notice, that they don’t want to risk the father of their baby, being the genetically screwed guy, who might make their precious child have the same problem.

Yeah…that’s the worst…I don’t think the pain from that kind of raw rejection ever fades entirely. I mean, what’s nicer than being kindly, in a roundabout way, told, that you should basically never breed, and it’s actually sort of selfish of you, to want a family, and to be a father.

Maybe it is. I don’t know. I hardly think about it anymore. Or about them, the women; it never mattered, none of them loved me, ever, I just pretended they did, for a while, I mean, I _am_ a human…I _do_ have feelings…I want…what everyone wants, even if I’ll never get it. But, like I said, I don’t think about this anymore. I haven’t had time for people in longer than is probably healthy; except, it was healthier not to put myself out there, for them to crush…so.

But then this really crazy thing happened. I’m still not sure it’s real to be honest. I had clawed my way to the top, had graduated with top honors, become the best damn pilot in the Alliance, and had done it all without needing anyone…with getting by on my own…

Then, we got this new XO. I mean, this woman has to be the most stunning female I have ever seen…and trust me…I’ve seen a lot…at least, I’ve seen a lot of _pictures_ , and uh, _portrayals_ of women. Yeah, well, a guy still has urges…even if no one made of flesh will address them…

So, when she gave me a second look, I couldn’t believe it…I thought it was a joke, that she was teasing me or that Alenko put her up to it. But, she couldn’t have been more serious.

 

 ..............

 

She is beautiful.

The vid’s, news reports and her file really didn’t do her justice (yes, I snooped, so sue me!)

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but not _her_. More some badass, hardened marine; which she _is_ …yet, so much more…

She’s tall, probably a little taller than me. That’s OK. My ego can handle that. She’s slender, but with curves in all the right places. Her skin is really pale, but in a pretty way, like a porcelain doll; made a little more human with the cute freckles on her nose and cheeks. She’s got a friendly smile, and was a lot nicer, and more outgoing than I expected her to be too. Her eyes are this really amazing shade of dark blue; I’ve never seen eyes like hers before. Then there’s her hair. Wow. Her hair is this striking shade of red; dark, but with a coppery shine to it.

I’ve always had a thing for redheads.

Damn. She’s going to be distracting as hell.

Apparently Alenko thought she was worth looking at too. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her; got a little flustered when he was answering her questions…I thought it was funny; serves him right for being so perfect all the time; damn little Boy Scout goody two shoes!

I was respectful. I was professional. I was polite. I was ignored. Of _course_ I was. Ok, not _ignored_ , but certainly I felt that she looked through me a little…or maybe I just assume all women do that to me…

After her quick tour of the bridge, Kaidan whisked her away, to attend to much more important things…

I’d even stood up. Even though my file says I don’t have to. Like she cares though; certainly it won’t make me any more suitable for her. What the hell am I even saying? There are _Regs_ …even if I was some Alenko twin, I still couldn’t have her.

Damn. I might hate being crippled, but I’m sure as hell glad I’m not a second Kaidan. Gross. There are enough muscle-bound pretty boys as it is. Urgh.

Okay…I am a _little_ jealous of the guy.

…

I must admit, I was a little disappointed that Lieutenant Alenko was the one to show me around. I could tell right away, that he was your typical, by the books, straight laced sort of guy. A real Alliance man; the type I generally find boring.

I would have much preferred the pilot, Moreau. He intrigued me; I sensed that despite his polite introduction, he’s the sort who has wit, and likes to bend the rules. I mean, that beard for a start! I’m amazed no one has made him shave. I like it.

Maybe he was injured though; there were crutches by his chair. I’ll have to drop by later, and chat with him more. Any excuse to look at those lovely eyes again!

Meanwhile…I suppose Lieutenant Alenko will have to do; he _is_ rather attractive, even if he’s likely boring as a brick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a personal note, I find Joker a very relatable character for myself in many ways; I suffer from a rather debilitating autoimmune disease. So, I apologize, if you find the way I've portrayed him in this work too angsty or overly miserable, as it may be a little of my own life bleeding in...as I too can relate to the bullying, and being overlooked and marginalized his character has suffered.
> 
> Also, (yes, I always have to slip in a BioWare rant, even if it's a little like beating a dead horse at this point!) I find the way his character was excluded as an LI endlessly frustrating; this decision on their part was for me discrimination against him, because of his disability. Their paring him with EDI, unfathomably ridiculous. Why would he do better with a hunk of metal, if he was so incredibly breakable, than a woman (or man) of flesh?????  
> To me, it made utterly no sense, and cheapened his character.
> 
> At the very least, he should have been an OPTION, from ME2; and if not selected, then they could have done the EDI thing...
> 
> Ok, sorry for all that! Thank you for your indulgence. :)


	2. Suitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the mega uncomfortable conversation/question period in the cockpit...*sigh* when I re watched it I was stunned at how awkward it was, I'd forgotten!  
> Anyway, I borrowed quite a bit of dialog (thanks BioWare)
> 
> I don't own Mass Effect, or its characters. I just like playing with them! :)

 

 

 I guess you could call me a spy, or a snoop. I mean, I don’t do it to be pervy, really, I don’t. I never even intended to start. But then once I did, it was sort of addictive. Not to mention, fun; as well as the added bonus of having reams of blackmail material. What’s a guy like me supposed to do? I can’t sneak around; hell I can’t even walk around and I really hate talking to people. So this way, I get a strange, detached form of interaction…

Well, it used to be fun. Now it’s just…I don’t know…upsetting I guess.

I watched Kaidan make his first real move. On the one hand, it was pretty funny, to see him throwing caution and Regs to the wind like that; while on the other, it was frustrating in a way I didn’t care to delve too deeply into.

I watched him lean in, whispering sweet nothings in her ear…and as it was Alenko…they really would be _nothings_. God, the man couldn’t be witty or sassy if his life depended on it.

I watched her ruby lips quirk into a smile, evidently enjoying his attentions…or maybe just teasing him, and playing along…not wanting to crush his ego so soon into things.

I couldn’t watch anymore, after he hesitantly, then more confidently placed his hand on her hip, and when he met no resistance or protest, let it settle securely in the curve of her lower back.

I switched feeds then stopped looking entirely.

Half of me itched to watch them, and not, as I kept trying to tell myself, for the simple delight of getting heaps of material to harass Kaidan with…

No…it was much more twisted than that. My desire was a self-tormenting one; like rubbing salt in wound…and in this case, on this subject, of having the handsome, able man, swoop in, and do what I could only ever dream of, was a deep, sore wound.

See? I this is why I keep the hell away from people, emotions, and all that other meaningless, tormenting shit.

Eventually, I turned my attention to the diversions of the extranet; which was in itself, a form of self-torment and punishment…really no better than if I’d watched them, as a reminder of how useless I was.

…

I heard faint footsteps behind me, and I knew it must be her. After what I’d see between her and Kaidan, I wasn’t really in the best mood to talk to her. But then, what choice did I have?

So, swallowing my mixed feelings of anger, jealousy and frustration, said as professionally, and normally as possible:

‘’Commander, something you need?’’

Unfortunately, like I said, what I’d seen had pissed me off, so the path her words set us off on saw me losing my professionalism in the blink of an eye.

‘’How’s the Normandy preforming? Is she everything they said she’d be?’’ She asked her tone polite and seemingly interested.

‘’She’s the best ship in the fleet, if you’ve got a pilot who knows how to handle her; the Normandy’s probably too much ship for your average Alliance pilot, Commander. Lucky for you, I’m anything but _average_ ,’’ I answer, the last part sort of spilling out, as a vent for my overflowing feelings of inadequacy. 

 _Well, maybe the fuckup to this conversational path was_ my _fault…_

_…_

‘’I like to know my crew, mind if I ask you a few questions?’’

Joker makes a slight sound of annoyed derision, before continuing, a decidedly sarcastic, caustic note to his voice, ‘’I see where this is going. You did a background check on me, didn’t you? Well, I’ll tell you the same thing I told the Captain; you want me as your pilot. I’m not good, I’m not even great, I am the best damn helmsman in the Alliance fleet.’’

‘’I was top of my class in flight school; I earned that. All those commendations in my file, I earned every single one. Those weren’t given to me as ‘charity’ for my disease.’’

It was like an avalanche, or being crushed by a wave. I just stood silent, letting it all wash over me, his anger and his defensiveness…I was stunned, he hadn’t seemed the type to be so touchy, maybe I wasn’t as good a judge of character as I’d thought.

My mind clicked back on, at the mention of a disease…he didn’t look sick…

‘’What are you talking about?’’ I asked, finally getting a chance to speak, ‘ _’are_ you sick?’’ it seemed sort of a stupid thing to ask, but it was to the point and I really had no clue what he meant.

He paused, our eyes met, he searched my face, at last replying, in a lower vocal register, ‘’Y-you mean, you mean you didn’t _know?_ ’’ the slight softening of his tone was short lived however.

‘’I’ve got Vrolik’s Syndrome. Brittle bone disease. The bones in my legs never developed properly, so they’re basically hollow, too much force and they’ll shatter. Even with crutches and my leg braces it’s hard to get around. One wrong step, and CRACK!’’

‘’It’s very dramatic,’’ he intoned with sarcasm, ‘’but I’ve learned to manage my condition Commander. Put the Normandy in my hands and I’ll make her dance for you. Just don’t ask _me_ to get up and dance, unless, you know, you like the sound of snapping shin bones.’’

I hesitated a moment, knowing I was likely going to further piss him off, but I had to ask. ‘’I need to know more about your condition if I’m putting the Normandy in your hands,’’

He made an annoyed exhale, muttering ‘’yeah, of _course_ you do,’’

‘’It’s an extremely rare condition,’’ he began, with a tone that was reminiscent of one explaining that two plus two was four to an idiot. It was alright, I could take it.

He continued, talking rapidly, like going over it faster would make me leave sooner…

‘’nobody knows exactly what causes it, genetics maybe. It’s treatable, but there’s no cure. They classify my case as moderate to severe. I was born with over a dozen fractures; hip, thighs, ankles. My bones were already breaking in the womb. A hundred years ago, I wouldn’t have survived past my first year. But lucky for me, modern medical science has turned me into a productive member of society.’’ He says this last part with a snarky tilt of his head, and a decided sneer to his voice.

‘’You’re not going to break a bone trying to fly the ship are you?’’ I asked, folding my arms, and regretting it the second it came out of my mouth…with the look he gave me: pure humiliated anger.

‘’Uh, I don’t fly with my _feet_ Commander, so I’m fine as long as I’m in this chair,’’ he sneered, ‘’but I’ve got to be _real_ carful if I get up to take a piss though,’’ he added with dripping sarcastic malice.

‘’I can do my job as well as anyone on this ship. Better actually, so don’t worry about it,’’

‘’I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,’’ I manage, knowing it’s lame, and that I’ve made him extremely uncomfortable…

‘’Let’s talk about something else,’’ I suggest, trying to salvage our encounter, one I had seen going very differently.

‘’Whatever you want Commander,’’ he says with less venom in his voice, but a tone that is nonetheless filled with resigned disdain.

‘’Why does everyone call you Joker?’’

Right away I know I’ve put my foot in it, with how he stiffens slightly, and turns away, the acerbity returning as he answers, ‘’It’s a lot shorter than saying Alliance Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau. Plus I _love_ to make little children laugh,’’

The contemptuous snark is back with full force.

I don’t know what to say; he turns his head to look at me again, shrugging his shoulders, clearly irritated, ‘’look, I didn’t pick the name’’ he says, seeming both weary and angry.

‘’One of the instructors in flight school used to bug me about never smiling. So she started calling me Joker,’’

I find this revelation somewhat upsetting…both in its irony, and in the fact he never smiled.

He looks away from me again, making a derisive noise, and snarky wiggle of his shoulder, as he mocks her, and the memory…

‘’Why didn’t you ever smile?’’ I ask, adding, I realize, the second the words are out of my mouth more stupid questions to the fire.

He gives me a look, one that pierces right through me, I’ve never been looked at like that before; it is at once jeering and mocking of me, and filled with shame and self-loathing for himself. It asks, _‘really? You can’t guess why I wouldn’t have smiled? After all I’ve told you just now…you can’t understand why I wouldn’t smile?’_

I open my mouth; I want to correct my mistake, this mistake, one in a whole string, of the past five minutes. I want to tell him I’m sorry…I want to take it back…

But I know I can’t, and I have a feeling he wouldn’t care.

Before I can say anything anyway, he looks away again, and says:

‘’I worked my ass off in flight school Commander. The world’s not going to hand you anything if you go around grinning like an idiot. By the end of the year, I was the best pilot in the Academy. Even better than the instructors; and everybody knew it. They’d all got their asses kicked by the sickly kid with the creaky little legs. So, one guess who was smiling at graduation…’’

There is silence then. It hangs between us like a black, suffocating curtain. It feels as though we are separated by the vast abyss of space, rather than mere feet.

I want to tell him how much I admire him, I want to tell him I don’t think anything less of him…if anything, I found him braver and stronger than some of the physically toughest men I’d met and served with…

He glances at me again, over his shoulder, his expression is unreadable. I look into his eyes, and find his hidden emotion…the ones he has carefully learned to keep from his face. There is pain, there is misery, but, below that, or maybe, over all of that, is determination, a _challenge_.

“’Jeff…’’ I murmur at last, taking a step closer, and placing my hand on his shoulder…removing it as he stiffens. Like I’d hit him, rather than offered an attempt at friendship.

‘’Just because I didn’t pick my nickname…and told you the silly sob story attached to it, doesn’t mean you need to call me Jeff, ‘’ he snips, effectively breaking the mood, though not in a particularly good way; we’ve switched back from hurt and misunderstanding to annoyed and uncomfortable.

‘’No one, well, basically no one calls me _Jeff_ ,’’

I stifle my own feelings of hurt and stupidity, and decide to make a request, hoping to not add another fuckup to my long list. He can say what he likes about never being called Jeff, but he gave himself away, when I said his name, his face, his expression softened for a moment…

For a moment, he left behind that shield and that identity made for him by others; used out of sheer survival instinct, and a jab at their ignorance and cruelty.

‘’Well, even if that’s the case,’’ I begin, ‘’do you particularly _hate_ being called Jeff?’’

He’s silent a moment, then shrugs one shoulder, ‘’no,’’

‘’Then, I request permission Flight Lieutenant, to call you by your name, at least when we’re alone together,’’

…

I was speechless. Well, for a second.

No one but my family, called me by my name, and I never saw or talked to them as much as I should. So, for her to being making a _request_ of all things…

It was weird. It was… _nice_ …

Yeah, I’ll admit it…I sort of liked the prospect, of being ‘Jeff’ to at least someone…

But instead of mush, I slipped her a sarcastic barb. ‘’When we’re _alone_ _together_? Wow Commander…is that likely to happen?’’

I couldn’t help myself, getting a dig in for her flutter with Kaidan, as well, I admit, testing the water for myself…

My heart was pounding a little.

_Shut up, yours would have been too._

Her face looked blank for a moment, then a smirk pulled at the corner of her lip. ‘’Play your cards right, and maybe it’ll happen,’’

‘’Well, if calling me Jeff will get me there faster, you call away…’’ I answer, feeling secretly pleased, on a level I don’t quite allow myself to think about…she’s just teasing after all… _right?_

‘’So on _that_ note…’’ she says, a full smile on her lips, and a somewhat calculating look in her eyes. ‘’I have other things to attend to. We’ll talk again soon, no doubt, _Jeff_ ,’’

I shiver a little at the almost purring tone she uses when saying my name; the way her vocal register drops…sends my mind wandering…

‘’Yeah, see you Commander,’’ I say as nonchalantly as possible. Waving vaguely in her direction, and pretending to engross myself in my work…which is only looking at buttons blink and flash at the moment…

I watch her leave the helm out of the corner of my eye, turning my chair a little, to get a good view as she leaves.

It’ll give me material to think about, as I contemplate our ‘’alone time.’’

_Yeah right._

Mostly, I think about how I was a bit of an ass and how I snapped at her, and how much more pathetic that likely made me look.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Pretty Boys

 

 

 

Smug. So fucking _smug_.

What an asshole. Yeah, well, the guy was never really my friend…I guess.

Anyway, he’s taken to strutting about my helm, crowing like the cock…or should I say, _dick_ , he is. Ah, nothing like a little venom to cheer myself up. So yeah, he’s super proud of himself, and it makes me want to puke.

I thought I’d gotten away from this sort of shit back in flight school:

The guys all preening, and posturing, making a meal out of the slightest little sexual advancement, stroking their egos…and likely other things…

Seriously, that’s probably as far as most of them got…no matter what they bragged about.

So, for Kaidan to show up, and plonk himself down, and brag about how he thinks the Commander likes him, and how he thinks he’s a good match for her…and how they have SO much in common…

Like, what does he think? Number one, I have no interest in hearing about people’s lives, or their problems. Number two…number two…I…I resent that he thinks…or _doesn’t_ think, that I’d have any chance with her, or might be interested…that somehow, I’m not a man…who might have similar feelings, and thoughts and desires as him, in regards to our lovely Commander.

Of course not. It’s always been the same. I know his type, they spent their free time making my life hell.

Ok, so _Kaidan_ never cornered me in the showers, and beat me until my legs were fractured in six places, then hid my crutches, and tore up my clothes, so I had to crawl, and drag myself, naked, to find help. He never pushed me down stairs, stole my leg braces, locked me in storage rooms, or embarrassed me in front of teachers or anyone else…

But then, he hasn’t had to.

No, instead, he’s on the ‘I’ll sleep with the girl you like and rub it in your face’ path.

Yes, there were some girls in high school, and flight school, who might have considered me…or maybe not. But anyway, I liked them, and as soon as the jocks, the perfect prince-pretty boys, knew about it, they’d make sure to seduce them, even if they didn’t like them, which they didn’t, and then if possible, fuck them, and make it common knowledge…

With extra special looks in my direction, as they’d strut past…

He’s sitting here again, droning on and on, like some self-absorbed vacuum, that likes nothing better than hearing its own monotonous noise…and thinks others do too.

Fuck him.

Really, I should be given a goddamn medal for all I have to put up with. I mean, why the hell is he telling me this? Wouldn’t it be so much more fun to share it with all his fellow pretty-boy-biotic friends?

I mean, it’s so fucking unfair. I can’t even make a run for it, and leave him to blabble himself into oblivion.

…

My shift is over. _Finally_.

I’m sitting in the mess, and I’m exhausted. It’s so soothing here, alone in the dark.

I should really go and take a shower. I feel manky. It’s always better to shower at night anyway; less people around to trip over, and have gawk at me. Because the guy with the crutches in the shower is obviously the strangest thing any of them have _ever_ seen!

 Aliens? Who cares! That dude has _crutches in the shower!_

It never gets old for people. Human fucking nature, to automatically gawk at anything abnormal. It certainly gets old for _me_ though. I’m supposed to be a pilot, not a specimen in a sideshow circus.

I rub my hands over my face, my eyes are aching, and I feel a headache coming on in my right temple. I push my fingertips into my hair, making my hat ride up. It feels sort of nice at the moment, without it tightly against my head. In fact, I raise my hand, about to take it off, and lay my head on the table for a while, before dragging myself to the shower, when a voice… _her_ voice…makes me freeze, then tug it tightly back into place.

‘’Mind if I join you?’’ she purrs, in that skin prickling voice she has, without even trying.

I gape stupidly at her a moment, making her smile. _Great…happy to be so entertainingly idiotic for you Commander…_

‘’You can say no…’’ she teases, putting her foot on the bench, and leaning forward.

‘’No, It’s fine. Sit down,’’ I mumble out, tugging the bill of my cap as low as possible.

She smiles, and seats herself, her slender, muscular legs making my mouth feel a little dry. Taking a sip from her cup, she regards me over the mugs lip.

‘’So, is wandering around at night something you do often?’’ I ask, picking up my mug, and draining the bitter, long cold dregs of the coffee that was pretty unpalatable when it had been hot half an hour ago.

She chuckles softly, takes another sip, then gazes at me some more, before speaking in that illegally seductive purr, that’s making my heart beat uncomfortably hard, and making other things feel sort of hard as well.

‘’I think you’ve had enough coffee…’’ she murmurs….’’Jumpy, jumpy…’’

‘’What?’’

‘’Relax, Jeff,’’

_Right. Yeah, I’ll relax baby, keep purring like that, and I’ll have a fucking ‘relaxed’ heart attack for you!_

‘’And you can take your hat off if you like, I won’t laugh I promise,’’

I stared at her again, then feeling my cheeks getting a little warm, quickly looked down.

‘’ I think my hair’s too shy, so I’ll keep my hat on thanks…’’

She chuckles softly again, ‘fine, suit yourself. I’ll catch you one of these days though, with it off…’’

I don’t know what to say back to that. I scramble for a snappy retort, and find nothing. Is she saying she’s interested in seeing me without my hat…? Why should she care?

‘’So, how was your shift?’’ She asks, taking another sip of coffee, and neatly changing the subject, for which I’m grateful. But only for a second.

I shrug, and before I can stop myself, mutter, ‘’noisy,’’

‘’Noisy?’’ She inquires, arching a perfect russet brow in intrigued confusion, before breaking into a wide grin ‘’oh, were you doing _other_ things?’’ comes the mild inquiry, but accompanied by a teasing wink, making it clear what she thinks: that I was on the extranet fooling around…

I smile weakly, half annoyed, half embarrassed, that she knows so much about my frequent dalliances. ‘’I wish it’d been _those_ kinds of noises. I’d have much preferred the moans of sex, to the moans of Alenko…’’

She really looks interested now, gripping the mug with both hands, and practically sparkling with restrained amusement.

‘ _’Alenko?_ Is there something going on between the two of you I should know about?’’ she purrs, looking at me from under her dark lashes.

I half laugh, half groan. _Thanks Commander…that should give me nightmares for a week…or…forever!_

‘’No, ‘’ I reply, ‘’sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing going on between me and Lieutenant Alenko. He’s just not my type. I’m not much into bigheaded pretty boys,’’

I’m relieved when she laughs as this. Sighing dramatically she sets her cup down. ‘’Well, that’s too bad, I was hoping for some juicy clandestine affair or something,’’

Our eyes met. _What, like the one you vaguely hinted at with our ‘alone time?’ Or is_ this _our alone time? Safe, professional, out in the open. Restrained to empty teasing and flirting…Yeah, that’s all the alone time you and me will ever be having, isn’t it, Commander?_

‘’So, if you and Kaidan weren’t getting it on, why was it so noisy, and apparently tiring then?’’

I sighed inwardly. Wishing she’d drop the topic…wishing I’d never blurted anything unusual, like my shift being ‘noisy.’ Why hadn’t I just said it was ‘fine’, ‘perfectly normal’, ‘great,’ or really, _anything_ else.

‘’Well, it _was_ noisy because of Kaidan…’’

‘’I knew it!’’

I roll my eyes, ‘’no, nothing like that. He just likes to hear his own voice I guess. He wouldn’t shut up, or leave me alone.’’

‘’Really? What did he have that was so interesting to talk about that he’d go on and on?’’

_Damn it Commander!_

‘’Oh…uh, some girl he likes, I wasn’t really listening,’’ I mutter, not meeting her gaze.

‘’I _see_ ,’’ she considers a moment, a contemplative look gracing her lovely face. ‘’Someone from the crew?’’

‘’Yeah…yeah, I think so,’’

‘’He must have said who?’’

‘’I uh…I didn’t catch the name,’’

‘’Uh huh.’’ She nods, and props her chin on her folded hands. ‘’But she has red hair right? And blue eyes, and freckles, and her name is Elizabeth Shepard..? Any of that ringing a bell?’’

My mouth pops open a little, as her gaze sharply catches and holds mine…

‘’Yes,’’ I mutter, still unable to look away.

Nodding again, she unfolds her hands, and leans toward me across the table.

‘’You’re a terrible liar Jeff, I’m astounded you manage to win at Poker as much as you do.’’

I swallow, but say nothing. I can feel her warm breath on my lips, and the clean, floral smell of what must be non-regulation soap or shampoo is making me feel a little faint.

‘’Next time Kaidan does that, you have my permission to use whatever means necessary to get him back to work. He’s getting a little ahead of himself I think.’’

‘’Yes ma’am…’’

‘ _’Ma’am?_ Jeff, we’re still having alone time…’’

‘’Uh, ok…yes, _Commander_ then?’’

She smiles, her warmth returning completely, ‘’no, when we’re alone together, I want you, I give you permission to call me Elizabeth,’’

‘’Alright…’’ I agree weakly.

‘’Good. Well, this was certainly an interesting conversation, but you and me both need to get to bed,’’

I nod, as she stands, collecting her cup, and taking mine too.

‘’Goodnight Jeff,’’ she says before leaving the cups at the kitchen, and striding from the mess.

‘’Goodnight, Elizabeth…’’ I whisper to the silence. A silence that no longer feels comforting. Instead it is empty and almost seems cold.

Tiredly, I ease myself up, grateful in a way, that she did leave; I didn’t want her to see me getting up, untangle from the bench, and then limp off on my crutches.

…

Under the stream of warm water, I felt myself relaxing a little. I slowly rotated my shoulders, willing the tension to ease; my wishes did not accommodate me.

The conversation in the mess jammed my thoughts. Sending off different tangled threads in all different directions.

Was she annoyed Kaidan had been talking about their relationship? Or…was there no relationship at all? And her anger then, was that he was blabbering about something that wasn’t real, and had no business having time wasted on it?

Probably the former, rather than the latter was true. Unfortunately.

Yet, in all the long reams of blather I’d heard from Kaidan’s perfect lips today, not once had he referred to her as ‘Elizabeth.’

I smiled faintly, the water running warmly down my face; thinking of the permission I’d been granted. Well, maybe that was one thing I had that Kaidan didn’t: the privilege…the _intimacy_ of being on first name terms.

The smile faded…

Well, the intimacy of using her name was likely to be the extent of anything intimate we would ever share.


	4. A 'Date'

 

 

 

I found him exactly where I thought he’d be, shore leave or not.

I wasn’t quite sure why I had decided to hang back and come up and see him, not exactly anyway. Certainly Kaidan wasn’t pleased with my decision; well, screw him. Besides, he was starting to get ideas above his station.

I hate being controlled, or indeed anything like unto it. I don’t think Kaidan thought that that was what he was doing…but it was.

Just before I’d come up here, leaving him at the door, he’d gone off on this huge monologue about how ‘Joker would be pissed at my trying to invite him out, and that I was wasting my time…blah, blah, blah.'

It pissed me off actually. But not as much as I think it pissed him off that I refused his copious explanation, and stayed behind, taking my chances with Joker.

I needed a breath of air. Kaidan was getting suffocating. It was just too easy to pick Kaidan. I needed more of a contest, someone infinitely more interesting.

Hence me, taking my chances with Joker.

Despite our generally amicable conversations and interactions things still remained a little cold and distant on his end. I was puzzled, but didn’t push it. While at the same time I tried to find an opening, to get close to him.

He was really one of the hardest people I’d even tried to get to know. It was like he had a force field around him, broadcasting a ‘fuck off’ signal at the highest possible intensity.

Fine, I like challenges, and I’m nothing if not determined.

He was in his chair, as usual. 

I called out to him, in an attempt to not be accused of sneaking up, and thereby 'shortening his life', and so on.

However, there was no response. Puzzled, I moved to the side of the chair, and found that he was slumped down, asleep, with his hat over his face; apparently basking in the bliss of everyone being gone, and therefore not on the ‘annoy Joker’ radar. 

A small smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. I’d never seen him without his hat on before.

Unable to stop myself, my hand reached out, and carefully lifted it from his face. My smile widened; well, prickly, snarky, self-loathing or not, he was still the cutest boy on board. I glanced at his legs; legs I knew were imprisoned in their braces. No, not even that could sway my assessment…in a way it made him more attractive.

He was a fighter…a survivor, like me.

He’d not been given anything, no free rides, no handouts. He’d worked his ass off…just like I had. We both were where we were, because of our efforts and talents. I wished he could see that, understand that, I really understood that about him, and admired him because of it. Besides that, I found him irresistibly interesting, unlike most of the men around me.

My thoughts turned fleetingly to Kaidan.

I was irritated as the thought came to me, that the real reason for his argument, his lecture against me going back for Joker was nothing to do with concern for me; no, it was only about him, it was all about jealousy.

A wry, twisted smile pulled my lips. It was all so ironic. Joker hated himself, felt so inadequate, so inferior to other males. And yet, they were intimidated by him. I supposed they probably always had been. Resentful and jealous of his wit and intelligence.

Suddenly I felt ashamed for even trying to play along with Kaidan. It had been unprofessional. It had been stupid. And it had probably hurt Joker.

“Well, you caught me then,’’ murmured a quiet, sleep roughed voice near my navel.

Jumping slightly, I looked down into Joker's liquid green eyes. He looked at me a little sleepily.

‘’I’m not sure what emotion you’re feeling right now, but I still need my hat…so take it easy,’’

I look stupidly down at my hands, which are wrung around the navy blue cap, twisting it. I loosen my grip, and try and return it to its proper shape. It stubbornly remains a little crumpled.

Joker rubs his hand over his flattened hair, in an obviously nervous reaction, leaving a few rumpled tufts sticking up.

‘’So, you’ve see me, in all my hatless glory…I suppose it’s fulfilled every sexual fantasy you’ve ever had,’’ he mutters sourly, eyeing his cap, which is still loosely clutched in my hand; itching it seems, to reach out and grab it from me.

I shake myself out of my mixed surprise and embarrassment; squatting beside his chair, leaning my folded arms on the armrest, his hat still in my hand.

‘’What are you doing here Commander?’’ he asks quietly, before I can speak.

‘’I…I came to see if you wanted to come hang out with me,’’

‘’Hang out? What are we in high school or something?’’

I feel a faint flush cross my cheekbones. ‘’Fine, I’m asking if you would like to come join me for a drink,’’ I snap.

He seems momentarily taken aback by my tone, then he smiles, and it almost reaches his eyes. ‘’You know I never go on shore leave Commander. Being a sideshow attraction isn’t really my thing… people just aren’t comfortable seeing my species. The crutches, the limp, it just freaks them the fuck out,’’

He’s unable to keep the bitterness from tainting his lame attempt at levity. I can feel myself getting pinker, hating that Kaidan was right, hating more than I was wrong…but feeling a steely determination all the same.

‘’Who said anything about going out?’’ I snarl, annoyed at my tone the second I use it.

‘’Uh, well, joining someone for a drink normally means going ashore…’’ began Joker in his most patronizing tone, arching a dark eyebrow in incredulity. 

‘’Well, apparently then, you’re not as familiar with your beloved goddamn ship as you claim!’’ I rise sharply to my feet, extending his hat in my hand. He doesn’t take it, instead, continues to regard me with amused, annoyed perhaps, confusion.

‘’Come to the mess. I’ll expect you in ten minutes,’’ I call over my shoulder, turning sharply on my heel and stomping from the bridge. His cap once more crushed in my fist.

…

The mess? Was she out of her fucking mind? Since when was there alcohol available onboard?

My lips curved into an amused smirk. Well, well, apparently the perfect Commander Shepard wasn’t as clean and pure as her reputation would have us all believe.

’Smuggler’ wasn’t something I thought I’d like about her. I wondered what panel she had her stash under. I’d have to pay more attention to her while snooping with the cameras…try and catch her in the act. Or maybe she was stealing from Dr. Chakwas. I certainly wouldn’t put it past the old lady to have something stashed somewhere. She was _very_ fond of a drink or ten.

I was actually inclined not to go. Crippled or not, I wasn’t big on being bossed about, even by her. But these circumstances were unique.

I was amused at her almost flustered state. I was amused she had come back just to be harassed by me. No, to be _with_ me…spend time with _me_ …

Or maybe I was only being hopeful. Ah well, I’m nothing if not the consummate masochist.

Plus, if there really was the chance of a drink, without me having to go off the ship to get it…well, that was worth the effort any day in my book.

Besides, I needed to rescue my hat before she did unspeakable things to it.

So, with a long suffering sigh, I heaved myself out of my chair, collected my crutches and limped my way to the mess.

 

Shepard still seemed irritable as I eased myself down onto the bench, at the table she’d selected in the farthest corner.

_So we wouldn’t get caught if someone came back?_

I looked her over for a moment. For an evening out she was sure dressed casually. Navy blue Alliance hoodie, under which appeared to be only a simple white t-shirt or tank top. On her bottom half, jeans, jeans which clung snuggly to her figure, and her Alliance issue boots pulled over them. It was sort of an odd configuration, hardly any different than if she’d been in her uniform.

More like she never planned on going out at all…

But any further thought or study was cut off, as if by magic she thumped a beer down in front of me, opening one for herself; my battered hat sitting forlornly on the table top, at her elbow.

I reached for it, and placed it securely on my head. Annoyed that the bill was a little wonky from the abuse it had suffered.

‘’You could thank me you know,’’

I glanced at her, ‘’why?’’

Her rouge lips thinned. ‘’Well, I don’t know… _manners_ perhaps?’’ She sneered. ‘’Or maybe the fact that I gave up the likely infinitely more exciting diversions of the Citadel to spend time with you?’’

I laughed, ‘’come on Elizabeth, you can’t honestly expect a guy to be grateful after you wake him up, abuse his hat, and order him to go to the mess…I mean, it’s not like I asked you to give up your fun to spend time with me,’’  I couldn’t resist adding the barb at the end.

She rolled her eyes, but her mood seemed to lighten. She took a sip from here beer, regarding me quietly, like she had that night over her coffee.

‘’I suppose,’’ she grudgingly admitted. ‘’But I just couldn’t stand another afternoon and evening with Kaidan,’’

That caught my interest, filled my chest with a flutter of no doubt false hope.

‘’Really? Why not? He seems like he’s a fun guy to go out with…go dancing with…’’

She took another pull of her beer, narrowing her eyes a little, before replying:

‘’Well he isn’t. And there’s more to life, to spending time with people than dancing and going to clubs.’’

‘’Oh I don’t know…’’ I begin, ‘’I wouldn’t say no to a table dance from some hot Asari…’’

Shepard met my gaze again, over the rim of her beer, and I couldn’t name her expression, but it was certainly somewhat calculating.

She looked down again, and took another swig. ‘’Well, regardless, I’d rather do something different, something quieter for a change. Drink your beer,’’

‘’Yes mom,’’ I replied in my most earnest, respectful tone.

She glared, but couldn’t hide the smirk at the corner of her lips.

“Where’d you get these from anyway?’’ I asked, unable to help myself, but knowing I was unlikely to get an answer.

‘’That, my dear Helmsman, is my secret.’’

 

It really did end up being a pretty quiet time. When we’d finished our beers, Shepard suggested playing cards. However, doing so with only two people severely limits your game choices.

So, after Skyllian Five, with only two people got boring, we went a step lower…maybe the lowest…Go Fish.

After about ten minutes I was pretty sure Shepard was ready to gouge her eyes out…or maybe mine. So, she made a suggestion to ‘liven things up.’

‘’Why don’t we play Go Fish ‘truth or dare’ addition?’’ Suggested Shepard, stroking her slender fingers over the deck she had just shuffled.

My first instinct was to refuse. I was the one who collected dirt on people, never dishing my own, _ever_ , if I could help it. So, to play something like this was to me, like a  minefield.

Seeing my hesitation she put on her best pout, ‘’oh come on, it’ll be fun Jeff!’’ she wheedled.

‘’Oh alright…’’ I sighed, watching her mouth pull into a bright smile, as she dealt the cards out. ‘’On one condition though,’’ I added, picking up my less than helpful hand. ‘’Nothing we say here, or do…leaves this room, or I’m not playing.’’

She laughed, ‘’you’re such a hypocrite! It’s all fine for you to tease people, find shit out about them to torment them with…but you’ll deny that privilege, that chance at revenge to others?’’

I shrugged, ‘’those are my terms,’’

‘’fiiinnneeee…’’ sighed Shepard, ‘’ your secrets will be safe with me,’’

The game was still pretty boring, and because Shepard is terrible at cards, even something as simple as Go Fish, the ‘secrets’ portion of the game was pretty one sided, which suited me just fine.

Being polite, I asked her only mundane things, and didn’t dare her to do anything. For once being smart enough to know that if I’d been in her place, I’d wish the same sort of mercy and courtesy, rather than taking advantage of her.

However my nice guy plan quickly backfired, when I asked her to divulge yet another lame truth; which were sounding more and more like simple questions…along the lines of ‘what’s your favorite color?’ Rather than anything interesting.

‘’Really Jeff? I was expecting you to have a lot more interesting questions…’’ she said waspishly, setting her cards down and folding her arms across her chest, fixing me with her sapphire gaze.

‘’I’m not here to be treated like I’m a kid in elementary school or something…’’

‘’Sorry…’’ I muttered ‘’I was trying to be polite,’’

‘’Polite? You? Since when? That’s why I’m here Jeff…I thought you of all people would be able to make a game like this fun.’’

‘’Fine!’’ I snap in frustration, ‘’fine, I’m sure you were going to lose the next draw anyway, so I’ll dare you this time, happy?’’

She smirked and unfolded her arms, leaning forward a little in apparent anticipation.

‘’So, ok, I dare you to…to do something you’ve never done before,’’ I say, thinking it’s hardly a step up from the childish questions I’d been asking her. Expecting her to stand on her head or something…

So it was a complete shock when, after regarding me quietly for several moments, she climbed up on the table, kneeling in front of me.

‘’Wha…what are you doing…?’’ I half whisper, half gasp.

She extended a finger, placing it firmly against my lips as she looked down at me. ‘’doing exactly what you dared me to do; something I’ve never done before. Since you wouldn’t come out with me, so I could buy you a table dance, the table dance has come to you.’’

I stared. I was speechless. There was no other way to be…to feel.

‘’So, sit back, relax and enjoy,’’ she purred.

_'Relax'...yeah right!_

I shut my mouth, swallowed, blinked, and tried to determine if this was simply all a dream.

This couldn’t be happening…

How could it be? Why would she do something like this…let alone for me?

‘’You don’t seem relaxed,’’ murmured Shepard, her hands drifting to the zipper on her hoodie, pausing then pulling the tab down a few inches.

I couldn’t answer. Once again she’d rendered me speechless; only this time it might have permanent effects. I was utterly stunned, and utterly riveted to her.

She slowly, smoothly rocked her hips, first in a low, gentle thrust, then a sensuous side to side movement, all the while unzipping her hoodie, slowly, very slowly, almost a tooth at a time.

At last she reached the end of the zipper, leaving the hoodie hanging open, showing the fitted white tank top beneath.

I was half aware of my knuckles beginning to ache as I gripped the edge of the bench. Along with an increasingly tight, almost painful straining between my legs.

Shrugging slowly, sensuously out of the hoodie—like it was a piece of lingerie, rather than a plane, utilitarian Alliance issue garment—Shepard looked at me with hooded eyes, tossing it into my lap, making me jump a little, which made her smile.

Through my shock, and haze of ever growing lust, I was struck with how personal this was. This was really _for_ me; her doing this for _me_.

There was nothing personal about an Asari dancer, or a human dancer for that matter. It was all just a job for them, no matter how vividly they attempted to tease you, and bring your fantasies to life.

That’s all it ever was…fantasy.

This though, this was as real as it got.

Shepard ran her hands slowly up her body, lightly stroking over her breasts, at which point I may have moaned.

_Right, because you wouldn't have moaned when probably one of the hottest women alive suddenly got up on a table to strip tease for you. Please!_

Shepard only smiled, that sly, secretive sort of smile she often had. The one that was reminiscent of the smug, self-assured look cats often have.

Her fingers drifted down to the hem of her top, taking it between her thumbs and forefingers, pulling up to give a glimpse of her milky abdomen.

Pulling a little higher, until she paused just below her breasts, ‘’breathe…’’ she murmured. I let out a choked, stuttering sort of exhale.

Lowering the tank top again, she smoothly moved to a sitting position, extending her legs to be on either side of me.

…

I looked at his white knuckles, the shocked, almost mesmerized look on his face, and felt pleased with myself.

There was something very sexy, very thrilling about giving something, giving pleasure to a person who really wanted it, could really appreciate it.

Kaidan would’ve found this routine. Sexy, desirable perhaps…but expected. He would look at me with lust, with the desire felt by any man, but not with the thirst, the almost painful appreciation I saw in Joker’s luminous green eyes.  For Jeff, this was anything but routine; it was forbidden fruit of his most secret, half imagined fantasies.

I also had a feeling Kaidan would never look at me the way Jeff did, dressed as plainly as I was. So, in a way it was all the more empowering. I felt like I was being seen, for the first time, for myself, and nothing else.

As a woman, it is exhilarating to be looked at like that. Especially a woman like me, who is always a soldier before anything else. It was erotic to be seen as desirable, be seen by a man, as a woman. Just a woman, not a soldier, not a hero…and not just that basic animal want either. The way Jeff looked at me was more than that.

I slid the inside of my knees up his rigid arms, listening as his breath caught in his throat, exhaling with a shuddering little moan.

I was about to go back to pretending to take my tank top off, when I heard the unwelcome, but unmistakeable sound of voices, boots and doors.

‘’Shit,’’ I hissed. The moment, the connection we’d had was broken in and instant. Silently cursing them, whoever ‘they’ were for getting back so early. Didn’t they understand the concept of partying the night away? Damn them!

Joker’s gaze snapped away from me to the doorway, as I quickly retrieved my hoodie from his lap, and removed my proximity from his body. I zipped up my hoodie and whisked the bottles into the trash just as Chakwas strolled into the mess.

 …

I watched as Shepard began to chat cheerily with the doctor, who was looking between the two of us with a slightly perplexed look, before paying full attention to Shepard’s attempts at conversation.

Silently I thanked her for giving me the opportunity to get myself back into some kind of normalcy.

The abruptness with which it had all ended only aided in adding to the pure bizarreness of what had happened. Making it feel more like a dream than ever. My only evidence to the contrary was the unmistakable response my body was still having. Not of course, that this wasn't just a wet dream or something...

Slowly I extracted myself from the bench, and collected my crutches. I waved vaguely to Chakwas, and then Shepard—who turned to see who the doctor was waving at—then made my slow, somewhat uncomfortable way out of the mess.

I needed to find somewhere private, somewhere to be alone for a bit.

At last a maintenance corridor presented itself. Activating the door panel, I limped inside, listening to it hiss shut behind me.

It was cramped, but as private as I was likely to get.

Setting one crutch aside, I fumbled with the front of my pants, swearing under my breath, at last getting my fly down, hissing as I closed my hand around my almost painful erection. Braced on my crutch and with my forehead leaning against the cold, hard wall, I began to try and ease my arousal. Reflecting with bitter irony that the whole thing had been nothing but a tease after all; what Shepard had done may have been more personal than any stripper, or certainly anything to be found on the extranet, but it was still just a tease…and I still didn’t understand why she’d done it.

With my eyes shut, it was easy to sink momentarily away from the details, the questions, and to instead relive the movement of her hips, the heated look in her midnight eyes. To think about how her hands had stroked over her breasts…the porcelain flesh of her abdomen…

I came fast. Embarrassingly fast really, though hard, harder than I had in a long time, maybe ever.

Panting lightly, my arm slack, my hand sticky with semen, I basked in my self-loathing. There is no way to describe how much I hate jerking off; which sounds crazy, since I do it frequently…but there is something so demeaning about it. Knowing that that is your only option, well, _my_ only option. Having to get from yourself what should be shared with another…

It’s depressing.

Still braced against the wall, my legs began to ache. With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly wiped my hand against my pants, zipped them up and collected my other crutch, carefully making my way out of the Closter phobic space.

…

In the privacy of my quarters, I reflected on the afternoon. Had I been wrong, to do what I’d done?

Probably; certainly by the reg’s it had been.

Had I come across as cheap and slutty? Did Jeff think less of me? Was he disgusted?

I closed my eyes, thinking of his expression again.

No. He hadn’t been disgusted.

Shocked, yes, he’d certainly been shocked. But along with that, he’d been aroused, filled with longing…and I’d just left him hanging. Well, not me exactly. We _had_ been interrupted.

That part though, the leaving him, breaking the moment abruptly, even if unavoidable, had been wrong. That was the source of my guilt, more than anything else.

Sighing I picked up my omnitool and began typing.

…

Back in the relative safety and seclusion of the cockpit, I tried to make sense of it all, as I replayed it in my mind.

But my pinging omnitool distracted me.

Irritably I looked at it, reading the message.

It was from Shepard.

My throat tightened, then as I began to read, I felt myself relaxing, a smile curling my lips, as I typed my replies.

 

_S: Hey…sorry for how today ended. Pretty lame end to a date._

_JM: A ‘date’?_

_S: Sure, why not?_

_JM: Kaidan might be jealous…_

_S: I know you’re teasing me right now. I can see your smirk from here._

_JM: You know me too well!_

_S: Hardly._

_JM:?_

_S: Nothing…_

_JM: Well, it wasn’t the worst date I’ve been on…_

_S: Well, that’s something then. We’ll have to have a redo sometime._

_JM: Whatever you say Elizabeth. If this is what being ‘alone together’ is going to entail I’ll be there._

_S: You’re so bad!_

_JM: :)_ _I try._

_S: Good night Jeff, sweet dreams ;)_

_JM: Oh babe…they will be!_

_S: Shut up you!_

_JM: Oh I don’t think anyone’s been able to make me do that._

_S: Obviously._

_JM: *Grins*_

_S: *Glares*_

_JM: Okay, okay…I’ll try and be a good boy._

_S: I doubt it._

_JM: :)_ _Nighty night Elizabeth._

_S: Night._

 

I leaned back in my chair, eyes closed. The sense of assurance fighting with my lingering confusion; what was going on? What did this mean?

Had I been wrong about her and Kaidan? The way she talked about it made it seem like that was the case. Or at least if anything had been going on, it was now over.

So, where did that leave me? Anywhere?

Was it actually possible she was considering me? Giving me that elusive ‘second look?’ For what? A boyfriend, a lover?

That thought evoked a bitter laugh. Well, only if she wanted a lover who she had to treat with the care of a glass ornament.

Yet at the same time—unless I was more deluded and desperate than I feared—there did seem to be some scraps of evidence to support that idea.  

She always took time to talk to me, even when she was busy or tired. She’s always came up to see me after missions, when there was often no real need to do so.

She never looked at me like I was different, or weird, or somehow ‘less than’ anyone else. A fact which I could not say of very many others. Even those who were neutral, or even nice to me, would always get caught having their gazes wandering to my crutches, to my awkward posture, my limp.

They never saw me for me, like she seemed to.

There was the fact that she really had ditched Kaidan to spend time with me, even to play something as lame as Go Fish.

I didn’t know a lot about Shepard, but she didn’t seem the type to just get up on a table and start doing her best impression of an Asari dancer, for just anyone. And again, unless I was completely crazy, there was no denying the way she’d looked at me. A lot can be conveyed without words, and her message had been pretty clear. She’d done it for me. She wanted me. Wanted me to want her.

 

Sighing, I busied myself with readouts from various scans. All I could do was wait and see.

 

 

 

 


	5. The Day You Were Born

 

 

 

It was the start of my shift. Nothing new about that, nothing exciting or out of the ordinary; at least until I reached the cockpit, and more specifically, my chair.

I had finally hobbled myself up there, my legs and especially my hips aching with a rawness that I was not looking forward to being acquainted with for the next ten or so hours. Nevertheless I was grateful to see my chair, and get the pressure off my legs, when my world tilted a little.

Sitting in the seat was a container, with a red bow on top, and a note. I set my crutches aside, and picked it up, carefully easing myself into the seat.

Once I was settled I began to examine the container. It held what appeared, through the translucent side, to be cake.

My stomach sank.

Yes, today was my birthday.

I slowly removed the note. As I guessed it was from Shepard.

Of course she knew when I was born, it was in my file, which she’d apparently read by now.

The note was also an invitation, to come to her quarters after my shift, ‘’for a party.’’ My stomach sank further, until I noticed she’d specified that it would be just the two of us, so we could ‘watch a movie’ or something….

Well, that didn’t sound too bad.

Other than it was ‘for my birthday.’

I suppose I should have expected that something like this might happen. God, that makes it sound like it's something bad, which it isn’t, at least not really, only for me. I tend to ignore this one day of the year, which is kinda morbid, but, it’s just never been anything much to celebrate.

 It’s a miracle, I suppose, that I was allowed to be carried to term, and be born at all. Prenatal tests are a wonderful thing; allow parents the choice of weeding out kids like me. But my mother wouldn’t hear of it. I was her first child and she was having me, no matter what.

 No one was sure I’d pull through. I lived in an incubator for several months, I was hardly touched, except to be fed, cleaned and changed. My mother was not allowed to cuddle me. That might account for some of my surliness I suppose. Lack of physical nurturing.

Not of course, that she didn’t want to. She did. She told me later, she would spend all day beside me, slipping her hand through the portal when the nurse wasn’t looking, just so she could stroke me, feel me, try and let me know she was there, and that she loved me.

Eventually I got a little stronger, and was allowed to go home.

But, as I got older, and became aware of my condition, of how different I was—how different others found me—birthdays quickly became something to not look forward to.

This is going to sound so ugly, so self-pitting, but whatever. I was honestly sort of depressed when it would turn out that I was still alive, another year later. So, that day, that celebration of my birth, of my existence was to me, more a bitter irony.

I mean, what kid likes having no friends? Likes spending their birthday’s their holidays, their life really, in and out of hospital, and mostly _in_?

What kid likes living with the knowledge that they are, through the fact that they exist, pushing their family into deeper and deeper financial trouble? While having to live with their looks of love, their selfless support, and belief in you, when all you want to do is die in humiliated, guilty shame.

So, with all that as my reality, it was always galling when the next birthday would roll round, to remind me of how long I’d suffered, and how long my family had suffered as a result.

By the time I was in my teens, I sort of stopped caring. I worked as hard as I could in school, drowning my pain in studying, determined to prove to myself it was worth being alive, that _I_ was worthy of being alive. I would just numbly face the fact, face that one day each year, gritting my teeth until it was over. And by Flight School, I pretended I didn’t have a birthday at all. A tradition of omission I happily continued when I joined the Alliance.

Until now.

She doesn’t know of course. How could she possibly? It’s sort of like the whole OI conversation I suppose. Yet another fucked-up Jeff Moreau minefield she’s unwittingly stumbled into, in her attempts at being my friend—or lover, or whatever it is she’s doing…

‘Lover’ _, yeah right!_

That whole thing in the mess still feels so surreal it’s hard to tell if it happened or not. Or if I merely strayed into some freaky, but very sexy, parallel universe.

Certainly since then, Shepard has acted perfectly normal, and professional, aside from the stress of dealing with Udina, the Council and other mission related things of course.

So, I’ve almost decided I simply imagined it all. Like it was only some hyper-realistic day dream; only, there _is_ that message on my omni tool that suggests it was real.

Kaidan though, seems surly, moodier than I’ve ever known him to be. Is it totally wrong that I’m secretly, maybe not so secretly gleeful about this? That I no longer have to worry about his narcissistic ramblings?  

My ears have almost relaxed, let their guard down, from the threat of another Alenko-cocky-blather-attack.

He hasn’t even been hanging about the cockpit lately. Oh the joy! That I don’t have to put up with his moping and moaning!

My moment of perverse bliss fades as I glance back at the container in my lap.

I feel completely torn about going or not. On the one hand I feel like I have too, she’s my commanding officer; even though I know that has no relevance in this setting. On the other, I’m really curious. Curious about the possibility of a repeat of what happened in the mess; while also deep down, the simple human need for companionship.

Yes, I’ll admit it, I get lonely.

But I can’t help but feel worried. I mean, how could I not be? A lifetimes worth of harassment has made me pretty paranoid. What if this is all some cruel joke? It certainly would not be the first time.

I hate how easily she’s snuck under my defences. I hate how weak I am in her presence, how much power she wields over me.

I hate it, yet I want it. I love it.

I just wish I knew for sure what her motives were. Where, if anywhere, this is all going, what it’s in aid of…

If I go, it will be the most _alone_ ‘alone time’ we’ve yet shared, and it honestly scares the fuck out of me.

…

Well, here I am, standing outside her door. I must be out of my goddamn mind.

Only, in the end, it wasn’t such a hard choice. First—after I’d finished my shift, showered, and eaten something—Garrus had wandered by and invited me to an impromptu poker night, which seemed OK; as well sort of acting as a possible excuse for not accepting Shepard’s invite.

But then, just as I was getting up, and collecting my crutches, Alenko showed up. I jumped as he tossed something onto the smooth table top. It landed with a clatter, and skidded to the edge teetering precariously, before falling with a _’thunk’_ to the floor, the lid popping off.

My heart sank when I realized it was the container holding the cake; cake—which because of the fall from the table was sitting in a sticky, smashed clod. He must have found it in my chair. _Stupid_ _nosy_ _bastard_.

I looked up at him, in time for the note, now crumpled, to bounce off my chin. Our eyes met, his hazel pair narrowing, his mouth a hard line.

Silently I looked back, I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. My faint fear eclipsed by my fascination at how pissed this was making him. I was half surprised his look didn’t turn my heart to stone or something.

A few long moments ticked by, before with a shake of his head, and a noise of disgust, Kaidan turned and stomped away, tossing a faint, but malice drenched ‘’fuck you’’ over his shoulder.

Well, that was that on poker night then. There was no way in hell I would sit for an evening with Kaidan sending dagger-eyes at me. Besides, I wasn’t sure I was up to being regaled by Garrus’ tales of blowing this and that up—which were all mostly for Tali’s benefit, but that we would all made to suffer through.

So, after that, my only remaining options were to go to my delightfully cloister phobic sleeper pod, or take Shepard up on her invite.

I looked at the mess of cake, feeling mildly annoyed. I had planned on eating it. If in fact it was edible--it appeared to be homemade, which meant Shepard had made it. A gesture I could not pretend I wasn’t touched by. And now, Kaidan’s jealousy had ruined it.

With a sigh, I carefully bent over, and picked up the note, tucking it into my pocket, before, with my choice made for me—the option I had really been going to pick anyway—I limped off for Shepard’s quarters.

 I hesitated a few more seconds outside her quarters. I couldn’t shake the plunging worry in the pit of my stomach. What if Kaidan told someone? Shepard could get in trouble. Was he enough of an asshole to do something like that? Maybe not, but it was clear he was pissed. But as I reflected, it seemed much more likely he would take this out on me, rather than her. My unease deepened at the thought. Would he really be that petty? Only time would tell.

I turned when I heard the door opening with a soft swish. My heart was pounding uncomfortably in the region of my Adams apple, as I took in Shepard.

Though somewhat silhouetted from the light of the cabin behind her, it was clear she was dressed in the least I’d ever seen her in. A pair of navy blue shorts, and a simple white tank, with an unzipped hoodie. Plain, basic clothes, but ones that clearly showed off her long, slender legs, and trim, shapely figure.

‘’Did you get lost or something?’’ Inquired Shepard, purring in that all too arousing voice of hers. As she cocked her head to the side, regarding me with a smirk, her hands on her hips.

‘’No….’’ I muttered lamely, my throat feeling dry, and a little tight.

She laughed gently, ‘’well I think this will work better if you come in,’’

Smiling crookedly, but with my eyes narrowed into a glare, I limped my way in. Taking in her quarters, as a distraction from looking at her.

They were pretty small, but luxurious by crew quarter standards.

‘’I’m really glad you came,’’ comes her whispered comment, as she steps around to face me again. ‘’I was kind of worried you wouldn’t.’’

‘’And miss this chance at ‘alone time?’’’ I intone teasingly, ‘’never Elizabeth.’’ I’m rewarded as she smiles warmly, a sparkle in her eyes.

‘’Was the cake alright?’’ She seemed suddenly nervous, which was adorable, which made me even more annoyed at Kaidan’s temper tantrum.

‘’Well, actually, I don’t know…’’

‘’What do you mean?’’ Shepard’s brows drew together, and a faint flush was spreading over her cheekbones. In anger, or embarrassment I couldn’t tell.

‘’Well, uh, Kaidan found it…and um, well, it’s on the floor in the mess, unfortunately.’’ I admitted, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck.

Shepard’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her cheeks scarlet now.

‘’What did he do?’’ She hissed.

I met her glinting eyes, which looked as cold as a stormy sea, contrasting with her livid cheeks.

‘’He must have found it in my chair, and he threw it at me when I was leaving the mess. He found the note too. I mean, I hope this doesn’t get you... _us_... in trouble…’’

She seemed to only be half listening.

I dug the crumpled not out of my pocket, and smoothed it out. Only to have Shepard snatch it, and crumple it up again in her fist; her expression fixed, almost glazed for a moment, before she looked at me again, eyes sharp, but the flush in her cheeks fading.

‘’Bastard,’’ she muttered softly, then with a shake of her head, ‘’he won’t tell though. He’s a by-the- books-guy, yes, but for something like this, he wouldn’t dare, because I’ll drag him into it too…and he’d never risk that for himself, for his career. He’s just being a resentful asshole…’’

I wished I could feel as certain as she seemed to be. I quietly hoped she was right.

‘’Besides, there’s _nothing_ going on,’’ she looked at me, and winked, ‘’right flight lieutenant?’’

‘’Right…’’ I gasped, as her hand stroked across my thigh, creeping teasingly high.

‘’There’s no rule about me spending an evening with whomever I choose.’’

 _Well, actually Commander,_ I thought _, there_ is _…’spend an evening’ can have many connotations, yes, but since I’m your subordinate, it really could have a dim view taken of it._

Shepard gave an irritated sigh, ‘’well, I think Kaidan has wasted enough of our evening, don’t you?’’ she asked briskly, smiling when I slowly nodded. ‘’This evening is supposed to be about _you!’’_

I sighed inwardly _; couldn’t we just omit_ that _part?_

‘’Happy Birthday, Jeff,’’ breathed Shepard, her hands settling gently on my shoulders, as her lips pressed lightly to mine. She pulled away, gazing intently into my eyes a moment, before, with a small smile, she turned away, fiddling with her omni tool, on which she apparently had movies saved.

_Wow. Happy Birthday indeed..!_

…

I actually couldn’t tell you what movie we ended up watching. After that kiss, sweet, and brief though it had been, my mind was sort of blank.

We’d cuddled up—gently—on her bed; she was curled against me, and I gradually became aware that her breathing had deepened. Glancing over, and shifting gently, I could see that she was sound asleep. I smiled. Poor thing, she was worn out. No wonder.

I closed my eyes, letting the movie drone in the background. Savoring Shepard’s warmth and proximity, I let myself relax, and doze off.

The room was dark when I woke a little while later. The movie was over, and the omni tool had shut itself off.

Carefully I extracted myself from Shepard, who was still sound asleep. As gently and as much as I could, I settled her into a flatter position, where she’d hopefully not wake up stiff and with a crick in her neck. I hesitated a moment, my legs aching in protest, especially the one I was kneeling lightly on. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips softly to her fiery hair, inhaling that dreamy floral sent.

‘’Thanks Zabe,’’ I breathed, ‘’for making this the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.’’

Easing myself fully off the bed, I collected my crutches, and limped quietly from her quarters. It would have been so much easier to just stay, at least in some ways. Certainly I had wanted to stay. There was no way now, that I could pretend that Shepard didn’t really have feelings for me, no matter what my self-hatred and paranoia told me.

There was something there…she’d somehow found something in me to like, something worth liking.

As to my feelings, well, they’d been there the moment she’d walked into the cockpit. What? It wasn’t ‘love at first sight’ or any other drively pap. No, it was more that I instantly knew, deep down, she was more than she appeared, that she could be trusted, and despite my initial self-depreciating thought, of her ‘looking though me,’ she’d instead looked _at_ me, and seen _me_.

 I smiled as I creaked along.

The crew quarters were quiet, dark and quite empty when I got back. Apparently Garrus was still keeping everyone spellbound, or maybe _stupefied_ , with his tales of his heroic exploits. That or Kaidan was losing, like usual, and was making everyone play longer to try and save some face, and win a bit back; especially since Williams was likely there too.

I eased myself into my sleeper pod, still feeling a little stunned, while below that a deep, simmering excitement like I’d never felt before.

This whole thing is making me altogether too mushy and emotional. And damnit if I’m not disgustingly enjoying it.

 _Fuck_.

 

 


	6. Ability

 

 

We’re short a team member, and a valuable one at that.

I know it’s shaken her to the core. I think it’s shaken all of us to the core actually. Not that any of us would really admit it, least of all her; stolidly carrying on, as always, being our confident, unshakable leader.

But the fact remains, she’s devastated over leaving Ashley; sacrificing her, even though there was really no other choice. Well, there was _one_ other choice: Kaidan. I don’t judge her, and I’m not hateful enough to wish that Kaidan had been the one die instead. In her position, I really don’t know what I would have done.

On the other hand, both Kaidan and Ashley knew what they were getting into, knew, as we all know, the heavy price of being a soldier. The fact that it is likely, if not inevitable, that at some point, you will find yourself paying the ultimate sacrifice.

Shepard knows this. Ashley knew this, and she paid that price, for all of us.

Facts though, never make reality, _living_ with reality any easier, especially with something like this. You'll always feel like you did the wrong thing somehow.

Perhaps most troubling is that she’s closed herself off from everyone, me included. Not that I feel like I somehow have special privileges—even with the little that’s  happened between us—It still kind of stings though. I want to help her, to comfort her somehow. Yet, what am I supposed to say? How can anyone really say anything that wouldn’t just sound totally hollow?

…

It’s early, like usual. I’m making my solitary pilgrimage to the showers, paying little attention to what’s going on around me, lost in my tired thoughts, and the misery in my body.

But the sound of running water, as I enter the locker room quickly brings me out of myself. I pause, my brows drawing in confusion. I run through possibilities as to who else would be up showering this early, as I strip out of my clothes. But, as I carefully extract my legs from my underwear I’m no closer to solving the mystery.

Feeling irritable and tired, I give up. I’ll just have to deal with not getting to shower alone today. But then, as I fit my one crutch I use to shower with, securely under my arm, quite another sound entirely comes to my ears, above the pelting drum of the water: someone is crying.

Crying? Who would be _crying?_

Completely confused, I limp my way forward, into the tiled environment of the showers, to see the absolute last sight I would ever have expected, and I’ve seen a lot of strange, unexpected things.

A woman is standing slumped under one of the showerheads, sobbing. This woman is Elizabeth Shepard.

I’m frozen to the spot. I can’t go back or pretend I’ve not seen or heard this. I can’t make myself move forward, or bring myself to speak.

She draws a ragged, gasping breath, and her eyes come partially open. She gives me a look filled with so much pain it’s almost tangible. If she’s angry at me for finding her this way, or worried that I’m seeing her naked, she gives no apparent sign. Instead her shuddering breaths slowly become more even, and her raw, pain-filled expression begins to vanish behind her carefully worn mask.

We watch each other silently for several long moments, before, with a last heavy breath, she straightens herself, and steps towards me.

Her milky skin is smooth and even. Her chest is lightly dusted with the same cute freckles as her cheeks and nose. The few scars she bears, accentuate her beauty, they are badges of honor, the marks of her power, her strength, as a warrior.

I watch a bead of water run from her neck, down between her porcelain breasts, as I try to ignore her pert, rosy nipples.  I swallow, and quickly snap my eyes back up to her face. Her red hair looks almost auburn, as it clings to her cheeks in wet chunks. Her eyes look as deep as a December midnight sky, as they lock on mine.

I want to die.

This is _so_ much worse than being naked and in pain, at the feet of my past tormentors.

I felt so ashamed for her to see me like this. It was all fine and well to joke and tease, to pretend, and fantasize, but quite another to suddenly find myself in such a strange, compromising situation with her.

What the fuck was she doing here anyway? She has her own facilities…

I knew how rickety I looked, how rickety I _was_. How uneven my posture, how crooked my hips, how thin, scarred and ugly my legs were. How pale my skin was…how…how…pathetic I am.

 I’m sickened, that I feel more worried about my hideous body, than trying to comfort Shepard, though I feel grossly inadequate in that regard, despite my desires to do so.

‘’Jeff…’’

Her voice is a hoarse whisper. She takes another step toward me, her lip trembling for a second, before she bites down on it.

_‘’Jeff…’’_

She’s almost pleading now, but I don’t move, I don’t believe I have the ability to give her what she needs, not sure what she needs…

I look down, hating myself, hating my weakness.

‘’Please…’’ she whimpers, barely audible.

I find her eyes again. Seeing them brimming with tears finally melts me from my shock and insecurity. I close the space between us, gathering her as best I can, into my arms, trying not to think how ridiculous it is that I am using _her_ , quite literally for support, while trying to offer her comfort and support.

…

Weakness has never been something I’ve had the luxury of showing. There are very few people who’ve seen me like I am now, here in Jeff’s arms. Few people if any, who’ve seen me for me; for who I’ve been secure enough around, to drop the ‘Commander façade.’

Few people who’ve had the ability to help me to do so.

 When I woke this morning, it was to find my shower resolutely refusing to perform its function, leaving me with only two choices: not to shower, or hurry and try and have a quick one in the crew facilities, before anyone was around.

I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone this morning, in fact I was counting on it, wanting nothing more than to quietly unravel, lose my mind for a few moments, before I would have to push it all back down. 

 While at the same time, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised that Jeff turned up. It only makes sense that he’d try and shower when no one is around.

I press my face to the side of his neck, and soon I’m sobbing again. I’m aware of his hands, uncertainly at first, then with more confidence, stroking circles against the wet skin of my back.

The concept of being naked, our bodies pressed together, hardly factors into my thoughts, neither do the potential implications.

Gradually I get control of myself, my tears cease, and I bring my breathing under control. Slowly I raise my head, looking into Joker’s jade-green eyes. I’m not certain of the expression I find there; concern perhaps, worry even…

Suddenly I feel selfish, and I feel stupid. I shouldn’t make him worry, I shouldn’t have let myself fall apart…I shouldn’t have _used_ him…

‘’I’m sorry…’’ I croak, carefully stepping back, so my body is no longer pressed flush with his.

‘’I…’’

‘’Don’t be…’’ he whispers, and seems to really mean it.

‘’I better go,’’ I whisper back, watching as he nods, no longer fully meeting my gaze. The lightest tinge of pink gracing his cheekbones.

Impulsively I step forward again, caressing his face in my hands, his eyes meeting mine in surprise, his lips parting.

I gently push my mouth to his, cutting off anything he might have been about to say. I pull back again for a moment, searching his gaze; he blinks, then captures my lips with his, the kiss is forceful, longing…

Clinging to him once more, I meet his kiss with a fire and fierceness of my own, my fingers digging against his upper back. When he flinches, I quickly ease up, kicking myself mentally, but our kisses continue. He holds me tight, but his hands stay politely on my back, a gesture that both impresses and faintly amuses me.

For all the smut and porn Joker has indulged in, I’d almost expected him to grope me. Certainly I had a feeling that had this been Kaidan ‘comforting’ me, he might not have been as restrained. How ironic.

After several long minutes we pull apart, our foreheads propped together, our breaths heavy, panting.

I place one final, soft kiss to his lips, our eyes meeting again. I shiver with the intensity I find in that liquid green gaze.

‘’I _really_ better go…’’ I murmur.

He adjusts himself on his crutch, and once more is silently nodding his agreement.

‘’Jeff…’’ I breathe, making his eyes flick up to my face.

‘’Thank you…’’

He nods again, cheeks scarlet.

‘’This isn’t over,’’ I promise, ‘’we’ll find a way…’’

The look he gives me is that one that seems to see right through you. Challenging, daring you to lie.

‘’I mean it,’’ I say, making my voice sound as sincere as possible. ‘’Jeff, I’d never lie to you…I’d never hurt you…’’

At last his face softens, seeming to take me at my word. A smile begins to faintly pull at his mouth, ‘’I believe you, Zabe.’’

I smile softly back, ‘ _Zabe’_ is that my new nickname then? I like it. I’ve never been keen on the normal shortened forms for Elizabeth.

Pausing once more I before leaving the showers, I gaze over his body. Noticing his smile falter as I do so.

‘’Never doubt how able you are Jeff,’’ I say firmly, looking him in the eyes. ‘’Ever.’’

 

 

 


	7. Only You

 

 

There are certainly moments I can look back on in my life with pride, and sense of accomplishment, but now I think I’ve topped them all; leading the final push against Sovereign; slowly but surely gaining the upper hand, despite the Alliance losses.

This victory and all that it means. Saving the Citadel and finishing Sovereign…thwarting Saren, and stalling the Reapers for hopefully long enough to organise ourselves and the get the Council fully on board and convinced.

However, things no matter how satisfying, or seemingly decisive, ever go quite as planned, or all your own way.

I’ve lost contact with Shepard’s team…and Shepard. After that explosion, the radio’s been nothing but static. It also didn’t help that my final shot on Sovereign blew it apart in such a way that a chunk of it crashed into the tower…

 I’m pretending I’m not worried; that at any moment I’ll hear her low, purring voice; her tone filled with excitement, with triumph…

The wait ends up being a long one though, and no matter what I try telling myself, I am worried; especially when I hear that Anderson is leading a rescue party. Suddenly my finishing shot on Sovereign seems hollow. And the only thing I want now is to be part of that search team…not confined uselessly to my chair in the cockpit.

The only thing that matters now is that Shepard is safe…

I really couldn’t live with it, live with myself, if by firing that final salvo—and the ensuing debris it caused— I somehow…killed her…

I just…

I _can’t_ …

…

I blinked. I saw nothing.

Was I dead? If I were dead, would I be wondering, or in doubt that I was?

Slowly I registered that I was breathing. Well, that was a good sign. So, apparently not dead then. My mind muzzily began piecing together what had happened; the ugly image of Saren killing himself flashed by. This image was quickly followed by the somewhat broken memory of the struggle down in the Chambers, with the team, as we’d tried to dispatch his… _’its’_ new, deadly cybernetic, Husk-like form. Sovereign using him like a sinister puppet.

Then… _then_ …

_What had happened?_ My memories felt like mud as I struggled to recall how I’d ended up where I was…wherever that was…

I swallowed, or tried to, my mouth felt like cotton, all dry and stuck to itself. Poking my tongue out, I was confronted with grit and a chalky, powdery residue. I winced, my lip stinging; I tasted grime, and the bitter, metallic tang of blood.

Gradually my vison began to resolve. About the same time I became aware of sound. I remained inert, gradually letting my body’s systems come back online. I seemed to be all in one piece, as I gingerly tested my legs, and rotated my hips, lifted my arm…Tried, and then failed to fully lift the other. _Damn_.

Releasing a sigh, I let myself rest for a few more minutes; eyes closed trying still to recall all that’d taken place. At last, groggily recalling my shout for everyone to take cover, as the massive piece of wreckage from Sovereign’s remains came crashing down into the tower…onto us…onto me…

Despite all, I find that I’m smiling, grinning in fact.

_We’d done it!_ Despite all the obstacles, all the loss and near misses…we’d made it! Saren, Sovereign, it was over.

I focus on the sound again, it is definitely voices. My thoughts turn to my team, and I am spurred to make myself stand up, to go to them, to make sure they’re alright, to show them I’m alright…

As well as to contact Joker…I can practically feel him worrying.

Managing to roll onto my side, I force myself to my knees, where I pause a few more seconds, at last rising a little shakily to my feet, making my way out of the slabs of rubble.

I catch sight of a retreating back, walking with a decided dejectedness. He pauses, and I recognize him as Anderson, as he turns to look over his shoulder, mouth popping open when he lays eyes on me. No doubt looking like a phantom, a ghost, covered in dust and blood.

His posture relaxes, relief written all over him, as he walks toward me.

All I can do in response is smile.

…

We make our way out of the rubble and ruin, out into the air; leaving chaos for more chaos. Only rather than a chaos of despair, this is a clamoring, a frenzy of relief and celebration. Mingled yes, with loss, with destruction, but overwhelmed by the prevailing feeling of triumph.

As I make my way forward, to the cries and cheers, to the shouts of my name, I am scanning for one person among the crowds, only one.

At last my gaze finds him, our eyes meet, and in that moment, the pain in my body, the rubble and wreckage, the crowds, all seem to fade away.

…

Her face was streaked with dust, and flecked with blood; but she is upright, walking on her own; she was _alive_ , had made it, despite everything. We’d both made it.

She strode forward, looking every inch the conquering hero she rightfully was. Though she’d never be as vain and selfish as to claim as much. On the contrary, she was much more likely to downplay her own role into something much smaller than it had been; elevating those around her instead.

As her eyes locked onto mine, all other thoughts and reflections melted away; it was a look of steely determination, a look of passion.

I’ve never been looked at like that. To be so…so… _wanted;_ to be focused on as though you’re the only person she could see…

Pausing for a moment when she reached me, our gazes still connected, we communicated silently for a second or two. Conveying mutual relief that the other had survived, conveying our elation at pulling off a victory…

Conveying…

There was a gleam in her eyes; a deep, longing sort of look, as her gingery brows drew together to make an expression which was half exhausted half lustful.

With a crooked smile—which made the cut at the corner of her lip reopen slightly—she whipped my hat off, and tossed it aside. I gasped in surprise, as she pulled me tightly to her with one arm, and pressed her mouth firmly to mine. Kissing me like her life, our lives depended on it. I couldn't help remembering her parting words from that morning in the bathroom, after Virmire...

_''This isn't over...''_

No, I certainly hoped it wasn't...and that at some point, however fantastical it seemed, that we'd get beyond just impromptu, passion-driven kissing. Not that I'm complaining! I mean, not a lot of guys can say--I hope--that they've locked lips with Elizabeth Shepard.

My thoughts were slowly drifting away, as I became focused on her soft, warm lips; she tasted of blood, smelled of sweat, and smoke and charred metal.

Firmly I returned her embrace, my fingers trying to find purchase on the hard, grit-covered armor.

We held our position, standing in the midst of debris and devastation, in front of our comrades and allies, and shared our kiss for several minutes. It was liberating, exhilarating, and completely forbidden. But Shepard didn’t seem to care, and if she didn’t I certainly didn’t.

And, yes, I can safely, and in true Joker style, say that I definitely felt _more_ than a little smug.

…

If anyone had cared about our extremely public kiss, no one said anything at least that I heard. And both Shepard and I seemed to still have our jobs, so they must just have put it down to some sort of impulsive victory-induced-relief-gesture.

Fine. Since as much as I’d enjoyed it, been flattered, I still really didn’t want to get shit for it. The smug, knowing sort of look Chakwas had given me after, and continued to give me at almost any interaction we had was more than enough notice.

I guess Kaidan had noticed too…

Right after it’d happened, and Shep and I had come up for air, I caught his face out of the corner of my eye, looking on, with an expression that looked like he’d swallowed poison.

Ah well. I’m sure he’ll find some nice Asari dancer to drown his sorrows and frustrations in.

 


	8. Formalities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK...don't kill me here..!
> 
> Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Joker's beard as much as anyone...obviously...BUT for the sake of doing something slightly different...well, you'll see.
> 
> Also, I really blame all of this on Midnight-Blackened on dA ;) She makes some very hot Joker and Shoker pieces, and in one of them she'd removed Joker's trademark fuzz...and so this chapter was born. 
> 
> Again...please remain calm, things grow back!

 

 

 

‘’Wow! I…I hardly recognized you! I can’t believe you actually did it…’’

I froze at her exclamation, and then self-consciously smiled, while nervously rubbing my thumb over my mostly bare cheek.

‘’I was only kidding…I don’t think you really needed to…’’ she said, stepping towards me, a look of mixed emotions on her face; surprise, humor, and maybe disappointment.

I shrugged, ‘’no, I think I had to.’’

She hesitantly stroked a finger over my skin, smiling lopsidedly, and shaking her head subtly.

‘’C’mon, it’s not that bad right?’’ I teased, both in an attempt to lighten her shock and to ease my own discomfort. ‘’Besides, it’ll grow back. In a month or so, I’ll be back to my scruffy self.’’

Shepard sighed, ‘’well, you always claimed you weren’t a pretty boy, but I guess you were lying.’’

A faint flush heated my face at her statement. ‘’Well that _really_ makes me feel better…’’ I muttered, looking away from her, and wishing I’d not done it…I didn’t _really_ want that medal…Didn’t _really_ want to be hailed as a hero along with Shep for saving the Citadel…

 _Yeah right!_ I guy’s gotta do what he has to do. Even if that means denuding himself of caps, facial hair, and then sitting for hours while upper Brass drone on and on…

She took my face between her palms, ‘’it should,’’ she whispered, her lips ghosting mine, ‘’since I’ll be on the arm of the best looking man in the room.’’

I smiled, trying to feel flattered at her words, while thinking the only thing that ‘would be on my arm’ or rather _under_ them, would be my snazzy crutches.

 Ah well, if she wanted to tag along beside me as I limped along, I wouldn’t say no.

…

I really didn’t think he’d do it. I was certain he’d be the rebel like always, and show up in his usual scruffy, yet endearingly cute way.

So, when I met up with him before we disembarked, what I saw instead, stunned me.

I almost didn’t recognize him. It really took a few moments for it to sink in, that I was looking at Jeff. The giveaway of course, were his crutches leaning against the wall beside him, as well as the nervous fiddling with the buttons on his cuff, which was such a typical thing for someone who never really dressed formally to do.

His dress blues fit him like a glove, accentuating his strong shoulders, and narrow hips. For once he had no cap on, and his hair was neatly combed. But the thing that was most stunning, was his lack of a beard.

He looked so _young!_ He could have been nineteen, instead of twenty nine.

I could tell he was nervous about my reaction, so I tried to erase the shock from my face, but knew I was not totally successful.

He did his usual humor-as-a-shield routine, but I just wanted to get a closer look…and a feel.

His skin was soft. Softer than I would have thought; and on closer inspection, I found that there was still a little stubble there, just enough to give him a bit of edginess. His eyes were more noticeable, both without the hat, and without the whiskers.

I wasn’t sure I liked that. A possessive twinge flashed through me momentarily…he was terribly handsome, and I sort of wanted to be the only one on the radar.

‘’You have one other duty to perform tonight,’’ I said, as I linked my arm through his, (effectively acting as his crutch) catching his glance, the twitch of his lips, at my choice of wording.

‘’And what would that be Ma’am?’’

‘’Well, as I warned you, I expect it to be a long, mostly boring evening, so, I’ll require you to make it more interesting for me. A few well timed, discreet jokes should do the trick,’’ I said as matter of fact as possible, watching as his smirk turned into a smile, ‘’as you wish Zabe,’’ he murmured, using my secret nickname, much to my delight.

‘’Oh, and one other thing…’’

‘’Yes..?’’

“Try not to look _too_ handsome, and get yourself abducted by some designing female…’’

‘’You’re the only female for me,’’ he assured me, a subtle seriousness sneaking into his tone for a moment.

I smiled at that sentiment, at the sincerity, as I patted his arm, ‘’well then, with that settled, we better get going. A pilot I know needs to get his medal.’’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading my piece so far!
> 
> I hope to get the last two chapters done soon...they're both basically written, I just need to finish and polish them!


	9. No Fairy Tale Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry it has taken me so long to update! I had all good intentions of doing so nearly two weeks ago, but after New Years, I came down with a dreadful cold, and then when I'd gotten over that, I was super busy at work!  
> But at least the next, and final chapter is 99% written, and so will be posted in a far more timely manner. 
> 
> Thanks so much all of you, for your interest and support in this piece so far! :)

 

 

 

Since the victory, and all that had come after it, Shepard has spent basically all her time with the Council, and or Anderson. Not that I’m complaining, it’s what she ought to be doing.

And it’s not like I didn’t see her at all in that time. There was that very public kiss of course, and the formal awards evening, where we at least got to sit together, and yes, I was able to keep her somewhat amused with my endless wit and charm, which I had delivered as requested, in covert doses throughout the evening.

 An evening which, as she’d promised—or warned—was just as long and deathly boring as she’d said it would be. At least I have a nice shiny medal for my trouble.

So, it was with a huge measure of relief that the Council decided that at last we could leave the Citadel.

As much as I’ve loathed it in recent history, for making me feel, or reminding me of my limitations, I was very, _very_ glad to see my chair. To have a sense of normalcy back in my life; feeling like things, after everything that’s happened recently, are settled again.

 I really am happiest at the helm of my baby. For as much as it, the chair anyway, could be seen as a restriction, it is also the place where I’m most free; guiding the ship better than any other helmsman could, using my skill, my intelligence, as a means of freedom, to do things I never could otherwise.

It’s sad, or lame in a way, I suppose, but seriously, I am in a closer relationship with this ship, than I’ve ever been with any human. She’s the only dance partner, and ‘dancing’ I’m likely to ever have or do.

Well, maybe that isn’t _quite_ true. There is one, very _human_ individual who I seem to be having a relationship with, a relationship I still can’t quite believe is really… _real_ ; and she’s just sent me a message.

S: you up for some ‘alone time’ when you finish your shift?

Always that ambiguous note that slips in when we speak, or interact in any way; that door that always seems to be left open to interpretation. But I’m not going to say no, you know, on the off chance that something… _interesting_ happens.

JM: up for it? I’m always _up_ for _you_ Shepard ;)

S: what are you, twelve?

JM: yeah, that sounds about right

S: in that case, you better get yourself to bed; it must be past your bedtime!

JM: ha. ha. ha. your wit is truly dazzling! I better get some shades before I’m blinded by it.

S: well, I did learn from the ‘master’ ;)

JM: oww, I’m wounded! You’ll have to kiss it better.

S: hmmm, that could probably be arranged…

 JM: ok, so now I’m distracted. So if we fly into something, know that it’s entirely your fault.

S: I’ll bear that in mind, while I’m strangling you, as we tumble down in flames.

JM: I’d never let anything happen to my baby! (Still distracted though!)

S: Hmm, should I feel jealous?

JM: what?

S: that the Normandy gets to be your ‘baby’

JM: Ah, Zabe, you are too cute! Seriously? The ‘great Commander Shepard’ intimidated by a ship! You’re making me laugh now…which you know, is not the best thing, since well, I’d hate anyone passing the cockpit to get the wrong idea, and suddenly think I have a sense of humor or something…

S: oh yes, _dreadful!_ (Glad to know you think I’m cute *blush*) Also, I am not intimidated by an old piece of metal! The Normandy _wishes_ she had a body like mine!

JM: Excuse me? ‘Old piece of metal??’ Wow, that’s a low blow Commander! (Also, you’re not helping your case, intimidation wise…but you _are_ making yourself even cuter!)

S: *insert half-wry, half-exasperated smile/expression*

JM: Alright, when I come by later, how ‘bout I inspect that body of yours? Give you some assurance that that the Normandy has nothing on you? Would that make you happy?

S: Very

It was a simple little word, but the hairs seemed to stand up on my arms, and a low, prickling sensation traveled through me, settling warmly in the pit of my stomach. So, we’d crossed that line again, the one that seemed to get hazier and hazier, between flirting…and… _and_ …

JM: well, I’ll see you soon then, Zabe

S: :)

JM: :)

My fingers were trembling slightly, and something, I couldn’t pinpoint what, seemed different. The metaphorical door seemed to stand wide open, and the only thing that stopped me from stepping through it, was me.

I couldn’t pretend she wasn’t offering me what I knew she was, but I still half refused to believe she actually was. And so, it would be totally up to me now, to reach forward, step forward, and take it, Regs or no Regs.

…

Rising painfully after my shift, I hobbled my way down to the mess to find something to eat, not that I was particularly starving—which was good, as there wasn’t a lot to be had food wise.

I was about to set off for Shepard’s quarters, but decided to stop off for a shower and fresh clothes first. Not that I wouldn’t have necessarily done this had I been just going to attend a poker night or something; but tonight, I just felt like it might be an extra good idea.

_‘’Alright, when I come by later, how ‘bout I inspect that body of yours? Give you some assurance that the Normandy has nothing on you? Would that make you happy?’’_

 ‘ _’Very’’_

A prickle went up my spine, as I pulled on a clean shirt; remembering her oh so powerful one little word.

Though, it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her naked before…but those circumstances had been so very different...

Nevertheless, a brief, but vivid memory presented itself; one of snowy flesh, firm pink nipples, and delicate freckles…

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling a little tight…as well as somewhere a little lower…

Getting myself back under control, and firmly reminding myself, or _re_ - _convincing_ myself that things weren’t as they seemed to be, I set off for Shepard’s quarters; determined not to allow my hopes to get too high, or even for my thoughts to wander too wildly.

…

Shepard greeted me warmly, admitting me into her room, seeming genuinely glad to see me. Relieved that I had finally shown up.

She was dressed much as she had been the first time I had come here—for my ‘birthday party’—casual, relaxed.

Once the door was closed, she carefully parted me from one of my crutches, and inserted herself, settling her arm firmly around my waist. She gently led me over to the bed, where I eased myself down, and relinquished my other crutch, watching as she stacked it with the other.

‘’So, are we going to watch a movie…?’’ I began, still not quite allowing myself to know the real reason I was here…still refusing to get my hopes too high.

Standing in front of me, Shepard cocked her head to the side, a smirk pulling her lips; a smoldering intensity to her gaze, which made my mouth go dry.

‘’Sure,’’ she answered quietly, ‘’if you’d rather do that.’’

She let that hang between us a moment, before adding, dropping her voice huskily, teasingly, ‘’but I seem to recall you were going to look me over…boost my self-esteem…’’

My mind went blank. I had nothing to say…nothing to add…no sparkling, snappy comeback…

 _She was serious. Really,_ really _serious!_

‘’I still resent being interrupted that day in the mess…’’ she was saying, her hands slowly pulling off her hoodie and casting it aside, her gaze still fixed to mine.

‘’But sure, we can watch a _movie_ …’’

‘’No…’’ I finally managed to croak, ’’no…we…I… don’t want to…’’

‘’Oh?’’ she purrs, ‘’so you _do_ want to have a look then?’’

I can only nod, fully aware how idiotic it looks.

She smiles a bright, yet still sultry smile, and curling her fingertips at the hem of her tank top, pulls it up and off, revealing a lacy purple bra; definitely not regulation issued. Much more likely a recent procurement from a boutique on the Citadel.

‘’Good, because I for one, think we’ve waited long enough.’’ She says, giving me a pointed, piercing look, as her hands drifted to her waist, and began to remove the tight, dark blue shorts.

It was sort of one of those ‘’the penny dropped’’ moments, as I watched her slip down those shorts; she had wanted me from the first day she took command. I just hadn’t been willing to believe it. Her dalliance with Kaidan…well…she _was_ a girl after all; it had been nothing more than the age-old ploy of using one guy, to make the other guy, the one you actually wanted, jealous, with the idea that he’d try harder to pursue you.

_Well you succeeded beyond your wildest dreams Zabe. Not that I’d ever admit that…to you, or anyone else. But I guess I don’t have to; I’m sitting here aren’t I? I guess that’s proof enough that your plan worked._

Shepard stepped out of her shorts, nudging them aside with her foot. Her panties the same lacy material and aubergine hue; I smiled, the whole situation feeling _so_ surreal…

‘’So,’’ she murmured, turning in a slow circle, ‘’do I have the Normandy beat?’’

‘’Yes, no question at all,’’ I answered, ‘’she has nothing on you.’’

‘’Well, what a relief that is,’’ teased Shepard, ‘’but we still have a problem.’’

I felt a plummeting sensation in my stomach, a prickle of anxiety...A sensation which must have manifested on my face as an expression, since Shepard laughed lightly, if not a little teasingly.

‘’Relax Jeff,’’ she murmured, ‘’our ‘ _problem’_ isn’t any of the self-hating ones you’re thinking of right now.’’

She stepped forward, standing over me, as I tilted my head back, looking up into her sapphire eyes, as she ran a slender white finger down the side of my throat, then hooked it over the neck of my shirt, tugging down lightly.

‘’Our problem,’’ she purred, ‘’is that for our upcoming…’activity’…you are rather _overdressed_.’’

The icy trepidation was quickly replaced by a flood of spreading warmth at her words. As well as a spark of nervousness, or excitement…I wasn’t sure.

‘’Oh, well I guess I better do something about that then…’’

…

Outwardly she is patient as I undress, but her eyes are raking over me, and in her gaze I can see a hunger, a longing, which stirs a deep, spreading warmth in the pit of my stomach in response.

 When I finally get my pants off—and none too elegantly—she slowly sinks to her knees, and positions herself between my legs.

Her fingers stroked against my cheek, her lips quirking up happily as they found my quickly re-growing scruff.

_What can I say? I’m a testosterone machine!_

I leaned into her touch, my eyelids fanning shut a moment, as her thumb caressed my lower lip; I kissed it gently, meeting her intensely blue gaze with mine.

My heart was thudding, but outwardly I remained calm, letting Shepard explore me, take the lead. Managing to not feel remotely resentful for her doing so. With one hand she continued to caress my cheek, as the other trailed down my chest, hooking two fingers into the waistband of my underwear.

Her touches were loving, respectful, not clinical or a mix of tentative curiosity and disappointment. Though she was careful, gentle, she managed to somehow make me feel like a real person…like a man…not a glass bauble.

I leaned forward, catching her gaze once more, for a moment, before firmly claiming her lips, enjoying the soft, sighing moan she made, accepting my lips; our kiss quickly lost its softness; like lighting a fuse, it became desperate, more open mouthed.

My hands clutched at her back, brushing over the soft, silky material of her bra. Moving one up, twining it into the short hair at her nape.

Breaking apart, and mutually panting; Shepard gave me a positively burning look, before gently pushing me back against the bed, and rising to her feet.

…

Jeff propped himself up on his elbows, from where I’d pushed him down on the bed; looking down his body to where I stood, still between his slightly parted knees.

The last thing I wanted was for things to get awkward, or worse, for Jeff to get hurt. I had tried covertly over the past couple days to wring useful information out of Dr. Chakwas regarding his condition; information to add to what I’d already gleaned on my own. I admit I was probably not successful in being secretive, that woman is simply too shrewd for her own damn good. I wouldn’t mind so much, if only she weren’t so smug about it.

She did though, provide me with information to flesh out the ‘facts’ I had gained on my own; information which I knew was likely more specific to Jeff, without her actually saying so.

I knew I had to be gentle, but it was doing so, without making that seem to be the case…I knew he would not appreciate being treated like porcelain. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t have him laying here with his legs dangling off the bed, and without the support of some pillows.

But thankfully, in the few moments it had taken for this all to filter through my mind, he seemed to realize it for himself, and began to ease himself more fully onto the bed.

‘’Good,’’ I said quietly, ‘’I was worried you might be uncomfortable…’’

He gave me a sort of cynical smile, as he continued to maneuver himself, until he was aligned correctly, on the bed, half propped on the pillows.

‘’Yeah, it would suck for me to break or something,’’ he muttered, attempting to keep his tone darkly sarcastic, but failing, as his emerald gaze took on that hard, challenging look for a moment.

I cursed myself inwardly; failing to prevent the very awkwardness I’d set out to counter. But if we’d stumbled here, I might as well fully make an idiot of myself:

‘’Well, that’s sort of the point; I _don’t_ want you to break. I want this to be good, for you, for both of us.’’

He continued to regard me silently, but his expression had softened again. So I pressed on, ‘’and so, the only way to achieve that, is if we communicate.’’

The silence ticked by for several more seconds, before a slightly lopsided, but more amused smile pulled at Joker’s thin lips.

‘’Zabe, I appreciate this, your concern, I really do, but if I end up with a broken pelvis, it’s a small price to pay.’’

I gave him a mildly disapproving look, but decided it would be pointless to argue, as I climbed onto the bed, and then straddled his waist, supporting myself on my knees. Pleased to note the return of his cheeky grin, as he reached for me, his hand stroking lightly against my shoulder, before slowly, gently, drifting down my chest, to settle on the swell of my breast.

I leaned forward, with a rather smug little smile of my own, pressing my lips to his, feeling his other hand travel lightly along my body, working with the other, to remove my bra.

…

Alright. Confession time.

‘’I, Jeffrey ‘’Joker’’ Moreau, am a virgin.’’

Well, technically anyway; in the most basic sense most would think of in regards to losing it.

*Insert dramatic sigh, and flush of embarrassment.* Yeah yeah…

Yes, I’ve been with a fair number of women over the years, (well maybe not that many) but anyway, things never really got to sex. At least not ‘real’ sex.

Of course there are many ways to get some type of sexual release, and of course I’ve experienced that, and yes, with a real live woman, not just ‘Rosy palm and Thumbelina,’ who are my usual sexual partners.

Not that I’m about to admit, or tell any of this to Shepard; so I hoped I kept my nervousness off my face, so she wouldn’t have to even ask.

I was also faintly worried about the very real possibility of coming away from this with a broken _something_ …Despite my snarky insistence to the contrary.

Not that I was worried about the pain exactly, or even the inconvenience it was likely to be; or even coming up with an explanation for how it had happened; that would certainly be easy enough, to go with the old ‘I tripped and fell.’ And since it was me, it was so stupid, it was plausible.

No, I was only worried that Shepard would feel bad for hurting me or something. Or worse, she wouldn’t want me anymore…that she would finally understand how pathetic I was…

But any further self-depreciating thoughts melted away, as I finally unhooked the catch on her bra; whatever might come of this, I was much more interested in focusing on the present for the moment, than worrying about any of the consequences.

The rational side of me uttered a final whisper of worry though, wondering if I’d really be so blithe about those consequences later, when they had to _actually_ be faced.

However, as I reached around, slipping my hand under the detached bra tentatively cupping one of those firm, soft-skinned breasts, all withering traces of sensibility melted away, like mist in the sun.

Shepard sighed softly at my touch, before easing herself away, breaking our kiss, as she detangled her arms from the flimsy garment, tossing it to the floor.

We gazed at each other for a moment, and I knew my regard was just as heated as her own. She grinned slyly at me then, and scooted herself back a little, before bowing forward, looking up at me from under lustrous dark lashes, as her mouth left hot kisses up my thigh.

I was transfixed by her slow, erotic actions. Every nerve in my body tense, riveted; my heart thudded and my breaths were thin, as my hands clutched at the sheets.

Smiling again, seemingly pleased with her actions, with the effect she was having on me, she propped herself on her elbows and then dipping her head once more, took the elastic of my underwear between her teeth and began to pull down, regarding my with another smouldering look.

Determinedly, I focused on absorbing the moment, of saturating myself in the situation; trying desperately to banish the thoughts of insecurity that fought to bubble up, the more Shepard became acquainted with me, and my flaws. Trying to assure myself that she’d already seen me…technically…and even though she’d been grief stricken, had likely, on some level at least seen my body…registered how…inadequate it was…

But, here she was. Here I was. So maybe…

I gasped as her mouth gave a teasing kiss through the thin cloth, effectively putting even the most nagging, persistent anxieties decisively from my mind.

There was a momentary feeling of coolness—as she, using her hands, pulled my underwear off— before soothing it with hot lips, playfully moving over my sensitized tip.

I groaned, my grip on the sheets getting tighter as her tongue stroked against me; her actions both torturous and exhilarating. I gasped as with one final, firm lick she withdrew her mouth. Our eyes met again, and I watched as she slowly slipped her panties off.  As the realization of what was probably coming next dawned on me, I couldn’t quite keep the smile from my lips, or entirely banish the mixed excitement and anxiety that writhed in my abdomen.

All I could do was trust Shepard, and hope my body was up to it.

 …

I knew I’d detest myself, at least on some level, if I broke him. But as a woman who has lived a life filled with taking calculated risks, I felt that I’d gathered all the information possible, and decided to proceed with taking this particular risk. I suppose my reasons for doing so could be considered selfish…but the truth was I wanted to prove to him that I was serious, that I wanted to go all the way with _him_ …

I also wanted him to feel loved, to feel like a man, deserving of respect, and the chance to share intimacy with another person; one who didn’t have any ulterior motives than a deep desire for his pleasure and enjoyment.

So, maybe then, it wasn’t selfish at all.

I knelt up, straddling his waist once more. His luminous green eyes raked over my bare body, stirring a powerful feeling of lust in the pit of my stomach. Silently he seemed to encourage me; I obliged, slowly stroking my hands over my body, thumbing my nipples lightly, watching his mouth set into a grimace of satisfaction. I smiled teasingly, letting my hands slip down to my waist, then over the fronts of my thighs, as I slowly rocked my hips side to side.

Jeff let out a muffled moan then, and I leaned forward, supporting myself on both my hands and knees. My lips brushed over his, then trailed against his scruffy cheek. ‘’Ready?’’ I whispered hoarsely into his ear, my breath hot on his neck, before I took his earlobe into my mouth for a moment, sucking then nipping it.

His hands gripped at me, his fingers digging into the flesh at my waist.

‘’Yes,’’ he breathed roughly.

‘’As you wish,’’ I purred, pulling back slightly, and easing myself over his readiness; a breathy moan escaping my lips, as I adjusted to him. If truth be told, he had, had he known, even less reason to feel insecure, or ashamed. I’ve not been with a man in longer than I care to divulge.

Still bearing all of my own weight, I began to gently rock my hips, moving in slow, rhythmic thrusts; pleased to see Jeff’s eyes flutter shut, and his mouth open slightly, uttering a low moan.

Supporting myself on with my hands as well as my knees once more, I increased the pace, still being cautious, but aiming for a more intensive feeling.

I was rewarded by the humming noise he made in response, as his eyes came half open, gazing at me with hot intensity, silently begging; his fingers, still at my waist, increasing their grip, urging me on.

Moving lower, so I was supported on my elbows, rather than my palms, I captured his lips again; sharing fevered kisses between the need of breath. All the while I continued to rock my hips in a deep, firm forward motion, as his hands moved from my waist, up my sweat beaded back, half caressing, half clutching at me.

I was close now, and I knew he was too. My heart was hammering, coupled with an exhilaration normally felt only in battle coursed through me; I tossed my head back, feeling myself clenching hard against him, a cry, a ragged moan of release tearing from me. Seconds later, with a quieter, deeper groan Joker’s body tensed, his hips bucking against me spasmodically as he released hard into me.

I kept moving for a few more seconds, slowly letting us come down from our release. My cheeks felt flushed, and my hair stuck to my forehead damply.

‘’Elizabeth… _Zabe_ ….’’ He whispered, as I leant closer once more, exchanging tender kisses, stroking my fingers into his rumpled brown hair, further displacing it.

I didn’t dare say ‘I love you.’ It was too soon. Besides, some things don’t need words in order to be understood.

…

Shepard fell asleep soon after, an action I chose not to be offended by. On the contrary, I was a little flattered, that she felt so relaxed, that she was able to just fully let herself give in to the irresistible draw of sound sleep. Certainly she’d had far too little in recent weeks.

The only thing I resented was not being able to hold her in my arms. Having to settle for simply being snuggled close; yet, it was enough, more than enough really. The whole evening had been a dream, a fantasy that had come to life. And I had never felt more content.

I refused to listen to any of the hissing worries, banishing the reminders of how impractical and technically forbidden this all was. How career ending.

We’d find a way. I was determined, and I was pretty sure Shepard was too, to make this work, no matter what.

…

I knew; I knew from the first hit she took, that it was over; the Normandy was going to go down. But knowing doesn’t necessarily make you react rationally…or logically…it doesn’t make you accept truth.

I’m really not sure if it was arrogance, or simply madness that made me act as I did, but whatever it was it didn’t matter, it rendered me utterly unreasonable, and set off a course of events which when started, could not be stopped…and which would cost so much more than simply the loss of a ship.

I ought to have known, even in the hazy bliss of that night we’d spent together so recently, that there would be no happy ending. That it was too good to be true…

That there are no miracles, no fairytail endings.

I worked feverishly, yet with ridged focus on what I felt I must do; that being saving the Normandy, and with it my pride…my freedom.

 Cajoling, begging her to stay together, as I fought a losing battle with blind determination.

Then, as I had half known—or rather expected—I heard the unmistakeable pounding clatter of Shepard’s boots on the metal of the deck behind me.

In a moment she was at the side of my chair, leaning over me, a desperation and determination in her eyes I’d never seen before, as she ordered me to come with her, to abandon ship. But rather than coming with her, getting to safety; I argued, I denied, and resisted.

Finally, amid the screeching of tearing metal, the searing heat of any number of fires, and the ever loudening and violent screams and trembling of the dying Normandy, Shepard grabbed my arm firmly pulling me to my feet, slinging it across her shoulders.

It as in that instant I snapped out of my hopeless endeavour to somehow save the ship; my reason and rational slowly flooding back. It was also in that moment, I realized how deeply in trouble we were. We’d stayed too long. _I’d_ stayed too long…

I limped along at Shepard’s side as quickly as I could, trying to shield myself from the sprays of sparks, as well as avoid falling over anything…or anyone…

At last we reached an escape pod, and Shepard roughly shoved me in; I clutched my aching, likely broken arm to my chest; turning, fully expecting to see her closing and sealing the door. What I saw instead froze the blood in my body, rooting me in horror to the deckplates of the pod.

Shepard had shut the door; the only problem was that she was on the other side of it.

Our eyes met for a second, before with another violent shudder of the Normandy’s death throes, I watched as she was hurled backwards. I watched her hand, reaching, straining to hit the button to eject me; succeeding, before she was flung into the abyss of debris and wreckage.

I watched, shocked, blank…uncomprehending. How in that split second, when it seemed we would escape together, she had ended up on the wrong side of the door. Knowing that there wasn’t time…that she had had a split second, and she’d used it to ensure my safety.

Helplessly my eyes searched the ever diminishing wreckage, until at last I caught sight of a figure. My heart hitched, my pulse thudding painfully in my neck, thunderous in my ears…

I had hope again…for a fleeting second.

Maybe…Just _maybe_ …

But then…the writhing form went limp, and I lost sight of it…her…

It sounds so cliché. So ridiculous, but it really just seemed like a nightmare. Like some monstrous joke, sick and morbid yes, but still fake. Like at any moment I’d wake up in my chair, with a crick in my neck and a frown on my face, but unharmed. Listening as Shepard walked up behind me, her face looking down at me impassively, while her eyes sparkled with the satisfaction of our secret.

But I didn’t wake up.

I was numb. Emotionless with shock. And quite alone.

Shepard…

Shepard was…

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to blank the look she’d given me, from my guilty mind. The last look…

Those sapphire eyes, filled with a strange mixture of relief, regret, and resignation. Realizing, accepting  her fate, even if I could not…would not…

 I crumpled to my knees, my throat feeling tight, aching with tears that wouldn’t come. Powerlessness crushing in on me.

Her last act…

Her life, for _mine_ …

…

‘’Shepard?!” His voice is shouting, distressed…it rings in my ears, it accuses, me…damns me…

‘’Where is she?’’ snarls Kaidan, his bellowing voice, breaking a little, emotion leaking in; a strangled desperation; the answer already there, by her obvious absence: she’s gone… _she didn’t make it…_

‘’Where is Elizabeth?!!’’ he roars, dragging me to my feet, yanking me from the scorched escape pod.

Our eyes meet; his hazel pair searching mine, as I stare back, emptily, brokenly…like I can’t find my soul, like it escaped, just as the oxygen leaving her suit had…

His fingers tighten over my upper arms; normally I would be crying out in pain, be struggling away, but not now. I don’t feel anything now.

The whole scene, the whole situation is so dreamlike, so unbelievable…I almost felt like laughing. Not because anything was funny…but just…It felt like a nightmare, like it just couldn’t be happening…

However, I did nothing of the sort. Instead, I felt my mouth move, almost as though it was doing it on its own; my jaws seemed to ache, unwilling to let out the words, to state the fact…as if by _saying_ it, it would confirm what I already knew, what we all knew; making it final, irrevocable.

‘’Shepard didn’t make it.’’ my voice was monotone, blank, forced…

I heard Liara somewhere nearby, let out a soft cry of shock, which quickly turned to actual crying…

 I watched a nerve twitch in Kaidan’s cheek, watched his eyes fill with tears, and watched his mouth settle into a brittle line. And then, before anyone could say anything else, or react, he threw me to the snowy ground, as if I had burned him, as if being near me was like clutching a vile disease…

Garrus was saying something then, but Kaidan only shouted at him, and before anyone could stop him, he was on me again.

My body was like a ragdoll in his hands, as he drug me back to my feet, shaking me, his fingers leaving bruises at the very least. Not that I cared, not that I could really feel them; I was numb, so, _so_ numb. It didn’t matter what he did to me. I deserved it, someone _ought_ to hurt me, to punish me for my idiocy, so why not Kaidan?

His breath was hot across my face and spittle pelted my cheek, as he shouted at me. I looked into his hazel eyes, his pupils were like pinpricks, those of a man utterly unhinged. He continued to thunder at me, but I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t even hear what he was saying. My lack of response seemed to make him even angrier.

I gasped as his fist impacted my face, with a sickening crunch. He tossed me away from himself, I fell with a thud, but didn’t move, made no attempt to help myself; scarlet blood splattering the deceptively serine whiteness.

 He was on me again in a second, the toe of his boot striking my hip, then my stomach. The pain was threatening to overwhelm me, and I was gradually aware of someone sobbing, noting with disgust, that the grief-stricken sounds were coming from me.

I was vaguely aware of Karin stepping over me, guarding my body, while she yelled at Kaidan, who by then was being fought, but restrained by Garrus and Liara.

Darkness closed in around me. Sound and sensation became distorted; I couldn’t speak, unable to answer Doctor Chakwas as she knelt at my side, tentatively touching me, trying to ask me questions. Her voice sounding like she was underwater, or speaking from down a long, echoing tunnel.

I smell blood, ozone and singed metal. I taste blood. Nausea rolls through me, and the pain is overpowering.

There is still a horrible keening sound; but I’m not sure if I’m making it, or if it’s Kaidan. I silently curse Garrus. He should have let Kaidan kill me; I deserve it…

Kaidan wouldn’t have picked the ship over her. Kaidan didn’t need to be helped to safety. Kaidan wouldn’t have…let…Shepard…

 _Die_ …

The last thing I remember, before sliding into the pressing darkness, is looking into Karin’s worried blue eyes, as she frantically shouted my name.

 

 

 

 


	10. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The few lyrics used at the beginning of this chapter are from the Nightwish song ''Sleeping Sun'' which is both beautiful and haunting, and I felt, appropriate to this chapter.

 

 

 

_Oh how I wish to go down with the sun…_

_Sleeping, weeping…_

_With you…_

 ...

 

The day is a fitting one, suitably somber; I gazed up at the sullen sky, at the steel-grey clouds which were heavy with the threat of rain, as though nature too, felt some sense of loss, of grief.

 I shivered as a biting, hissing wind rustled by, tugging at my clothes, leaving me chilled.

Did nature too, hold me as responsible as I held myself?

Even as I looked up at their impenetrable broodiness, a fat, wet drop pelted against my cheek; like a mournful tear, or a wad of contemptuous spit, I couldn’t tell…

One drop was quickly followed by several, then hundreds, and soon a full pelting shower was drenching me in icy wetness. Washing me of a sin I would never be clean of…of a guilt I would never, _couldn’t ever_ escape.

With a great cowardly reluctance, I wrenched my gaze away from the somber sky, and turned it to the newly fitted piece of sod, with mud bleeding out from under it.

I read the inscription on the stone. The words were both devastatingly empty and accusatory—at least to me—at the same time.

I thought of the coffin below my feet, how it was _empty_ …

My mind quick to replay the damning images, the reminders of _why_ the coffin was empty:

Shepard meeting my eyes, the door of the escape pod separating us, as a momentary, horrifying understanding passed between us…

Her body being flung backwards by another explosion, even as in her last act, her hand scrabbled to eject the pod I was in…

I replayed _that_ for a torturous moment…

Her fingers stretching, straining…to save _me_ …the reason _she_ was about to die…

Then…then she was tumbling away, down and down, writhing, clutching at the back of her neck…

Drifting, falling, until I could no longer see her amongst the debris.

I imagined her last, panicked breath…I imagined her body burning in the atmosphere….

All images which would be seared into my memories for as long as I would be cursed to live.

A terrible clenching ache began to fill my chest. A blurriness obscuring my vision, which had nothing to do with rain…

Slowly, stiffly I sank to my knees, leaning forward to rest my forehead on the chill, merciless black stone.

I could never forget what I had lost, because of my stupidity…

I would never forgive myself…

‘’I can’t live without you…’’ I gasped brokenly into the deluge, my fists clutching at the muddy grass, strewn with sodden, withered petals from the tokens left by those others, so, _so_ many others who she’s been taken from.

‘’I…I… _can’t_ …’’ I moan, half strangled by my sobs, before I am completely overcome, drowning in my guilt and misery.

…

At last, after an indeterminate amount of time has passed, I get myself under control; or rather the horror of it all grips me anew, and I am quietly strangled back into the hollow, emptiness I have been living with for the past few months in the hospital. Cold, empty, devoid of feelings…until I try and sleep, and my subconscious will remind me with biting, brutal clarity of my blunder…that has cost everyone everything.

The rain has stopped, as I slowly make myself get up. Clumsily, and stiffly I manage to stand, collecting my crutches to steady myself.

I stare at the headstone again for several minutes. Hating its cold, brutal finality…hating that it guards nothing…that I couldn’t even give her _that_ …the dignity of being _something_ to burry...

I listen as the birds begin to chirp, happy the rain has passed; I listen to the gentle shushing rustle of the breeze as it frets the leaves; I inhale guilty lungful’s of fresh, sweet air, as once again I watch the replay of her writhing form, robbed of breath…

My heart keeps beating, slow, steady thuds…when it should have stopped when hers had.

She should have left me…

I’m _nothing_ …

_No one…_

I exhale deeply, and wipe a muddy hand across my face, more loathed of myself than I have ever been.  Being alive, surviving, it _is_ my punishment for my crime. Being forced to live with the weight of my guilt…being tormented, trapped and tortured by my thoughts, day and night…

It’s fitting…it’s _right_ …

It’s a more brutal, lasting punishment than anything Kaidan’s fists had done to me.

At last, with ridiculous juxtaposition the sun breaks out from behind the iron-grey clouds, sending golden shafts to the wet earth, making the grass sparkle.

I fail to see it for the omen of hope that it is.

Before I leave, I remove my hat, and set it carefully on the muddy grass, just in front of the headstone. It’s a useless gesture, hollow and meaningless like everything else, but it is all I can think of to leave, and it seems more appropriate than flowers.

…

*Two years later*

…

My fingers contract helplessly against the glass, and the logical, cynical part of my brain refuses to fully believe what my eyes are seeing.

It is at once horrifying and elating.

I am transfixed by a lock of bright, intensely red hair poking out from under the bandages that obscure parts of her face.

I can almost feel how soft it is; smell that subtle musky-floral scent...

Tearing my gaze away, I clench my eyes shut for a few seconds, fighting a wave of emotion I refuse to show, to feel…

I hadn’t believed it, I _couldn’t_ ; I still didn’t fully…but I didn’t care. My desperation, the raw, relentless guilt that had torn me apart for the past two years, had brought me here, and now with what I  saw behind the panel of glass, that desperation…that _hope_ , deepened.

‘ _’Well?_ ’’

I glanced to my right, taking in the woman who’d convinced me to come here…to see this…to see _Shepard_ …

Miranda Lawson, in her white skin-tight bodysuit; the freakishly ‘perfect’ woman, regarding me out of icy grey-blue eyes with an aloof, almost condescending look; while at the same time a smugness; pleased it seemed with her brilliance, with Cerberus’s ingenuity; the power to play God…to raise the dead…

‘Lazarus’ project indeed. I must really be out of my mind, joining terrorists. But the truth is, I really don’t give a fuck anymore…

 _I’d do anything for you Zabe…even_ this _…believing_ this _…Believing you can come back to me…that you’ll still be you…_

I looked into those cold eyes, as she continued to give me that haughty, appraising look, as if daring me to argue, to refuse…

In the old days, I might have, just to be a prick, just to spite her, to wipe the self-importance off her face; but the last couple years have sort of decimated my beautifully tended arrogance and pride…and she knows it.

‘’Well,’’ I replied steadily, but with a steel to my gaze, ‘’you have your pilot.’’

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the end of the story...
> 
> Thank you all so much for your interest and support, and for all the comments!! I'm flattered at how much enthusiasm this piece seemed to generate. 
> 
> For those of you who may leave kudos in the future, thank you too!


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